


The Boy with the Thorn in His Side

by MYSTERYstew



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allison just wants to be a good sister, Alternate Universe, Ben loves his family, Canon-Typical Violence, Diego is also concerned, Five comes back even younger, Gen, I just wanted Allison and Five to hang out more, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Klaus is enjoying the ride, Luther just wanted to solve a murder but is now stuck dealing with a gremlin, POV Alternating, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Protective Number Five | The Boy, Protective Siblings, Vanya is concerned, but lowkey concerned as well, even though they drive him crazy, some language, tagging is not my strength, vaguely alluded to - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:26:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24300553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MYSTERYstew/pseuds/MYSTERYstew
Summary: He’s wearing a suit, one that swallows his whole frame, and he has to be 6 or 7 because his height is right around Claire’s. The boy has blue-green eyes that are squinting at all of them and there’s something about him that’s familiar. He looks just like-“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus questions, completing Allison’s train of thought.The kid’s brow furrows in confusion. Then he looks down, holding out his hands for examination. “Shit!” he curses with a vehemence that is shocking for his age.Or Five comes back as a 7-year old and it changes things.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy) & Everyone
Comments: 101
Kudos: 605





	1. Prodigal Boy Returns

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I'm posting this because I have been obsessively tweaking it forever. I've been trying my best to keep everything consistent so hopefully that worked and I didn't like horribly mangle any character.  
> Some of the dialogue is kept from the first episode.
> 
> Look, I just really wanted some more Allison and Five interaction and I'm also a sucker for age regression fics. And then I was like, well heck, Allison would totally be concerned for a very young Five, in fact I bet they all would be pretty concerned and I'm going to have to write this huh?
> 
> Got the title from 'The Boy with the Thorn in His Side' by the Smiths, just kinda seemed fitting and I like it
> 
> Anyways! I hope someone enjoys this!

The music is drowned out but the sudden crackling of thunder. The world outside her window flashes with unnatural lightning, the air supercharged with its appearance. Allison watches in shock as the metal in her room flies into the wall. She doesn’t think, she moves.

Her coat is hastily tied as she runs down the stairs. The air feeling charged and making the hair rise all over her body.

She reaches the ground floor in record time, shoes tapping a rapid beat as she runs to the courtyard door. The sound of loud footsteps has her glancing back to see Luther running too. At the door Diego and Vanya have already arrived. Diego pushes through the door followed by Vanya. Luther shoves himself past Allison to get in front of them, acting as a shield.

  
The whole courtyard is awash in blue light as some sort of cloud made from swirling lightning floats several feet in the air.

  
“What is that?” Vanya yells over the sound.

  
Luther lurches closer like he’s going to get a better look. Allison quickly grabs his arm. “Don’t get too close!”

  
“Yeah no shit.” Diego chimes in.

  
“It looks like some kind of temporal anomaly…either that or some kind of miniature black hole. One of the two.”

  
“Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan.” Diego acerbically replies. Always something to add, even when there is an electrical storm in the yard.

  
“Out of the way!” Klaus yells shoving between Diego and Luther with a…fire extinguisher.

  
Allison watches dumbfounded as the extinguisher goes flying into the cloud. “What’s that gonna do?” she shouts.

  
Klaus shrugs without turning. “I don’t know. Do you have a better idea?”

  
There is a blinding flash that has Allison clenching her eyes shut. The noise around them growing louder as whatever is happening reaches some sort of climax. “Everybody get behind me!” Luther yells. Allison opens her eyes as he grabs her arm, shielding her behind him. “Yeah, get behind us.” Diego echoes, arms thrown out in front of the other two.

  
Something is coming out, pushing against the blue.

  
A figure drops from the...portal, which dissipates with a few final weak flashes. Allison’s eyes are fixed on what she can now see is a person. She steps forward, feeling her siblings do the same. The person on the ground groans shifting. They’re tiny whoever they are, drowning in their clothes.

  
They-he, it’s a little boy, he climbs to his feet with a grimace. His hair is a mess, dark brown nearly black. He’s wearing a suit, one that swallows his whole frame, and he has to be 6 or 7 because his height is right around Claire’s. The boy has blue-green eyes that are squinting at all of them and there’s something about him that’s familiar. He looks just like-

  
“Does anyone else see little Number Five, or is that just me?” Klaus questions, completing Allison’s train of thought.

  
The kid’s brow furrows in confusion. Then he looks down, holding out his hands for examination. “Shit!” he curses with a vehemence that is shocking for his age.

  
“Five?” Allison asks tentatively. And the kid-no, Five looks up face twisted in a scowl.

  
“Yeah.” He growls.

  
“What.” Diego says flatly.

  
He’s-that’s- Allison can’t think. That’s her brother. Her brother who disappeared 16 years ago and looks younger than when he left. Her brother who just fell from a portal in the sky. Her brother who is lifting his pant legs to reveal shoes that are too big and kicking them off with violent sweeps of his legs. One of them smacks a window, cracking the pane from the force.

  
“Hey-“ Luther starts belatedly catching up with what’s happening. But Five is already moving, holding his pants up and storming between them. They part for him, stumbling aside to watch as this tiny version of their brother stalks inside the house.

  
They stand there silent. Until Diego says what they all are thinking. “What the fuck.”

  
_____________________

  
Five walks away from his siblings without letting himself linger on their faces.

  
When he first came through the rift he’d caused, he found himself standing before them taking in every detail quickly. They looked just like the corpses he found, with the exception of their clothes. Very much alive and very much different from the children he grew up with.

  
His eyes burned at the thought, the memory of years spent without them and knowing that they died while he was gone. Because he’d made the jump.  
As much as his eyes had burned, there was also a swooping in his stomach. The urge to run and touch them had been…overpowering.

  
It was a relief, when Klaus had spoken and broken whatever urges Five’s body had been screaming for. Said body, that is all wrong, provided the perfect distraction to drown out the feelings that threatened to choke him.

  
Five grabbed the anger that flowed through him and used it to walk away from his siblings without a glance. He just needed to get away, to center himself before he really talked with them.

  
Five marched through the courtyard doors and headed for the kitchen. After 45 years in the apocalypse and all the other bullshit that was his life, he was going to make a damn sandwich and then get down to business.

  
He let his tie drop to the floor, eyes taking in every detail around him.

  
The Academy is huge.

  
Five can’t remember it being so big. Maybe it’s because the last time he saw it the building was rubble just like everything else, or maybe it’s that he is far shorter than when he left. It has that same feeling about it, like he’s going to be consumed by the walls. He used to think that. Back before, he always thought that the Academy would eat all of them. He got out before it did (escaped into a new monster), and it looks like the rest did too. Except for Ben.

  
Five let his jacket slide off his shoulders and threw it onto one of the kitchen chairs then he set about rolling his sleeves and pulling his belt as tight as it’d go. The pant legs got rolled too. He’s sure he looks ridiculous, a child in a man’s suit, but it’ll do for the moment.

  
The kitchen looks the same as all those years ago. He remembers so many mornings spent at the table with his siblings and nights spent sneaking to the pantry for a midnight snack. He remembers, that the kitchen will be buried. All the upper floors will collapse and the kitchen will be crushed under the weight, made completely inaccessible. His siblings will be killed fighting whoever is the cause. They’ll all be dead, lying in the ruins of the world.

  
The thoughts kill all nostalgia. They make his hands shake and his ears ring because if he doesn’t stop the apocalypse then all of them will die again. And maybe he’ll have to watch this time.

  
Five curls his hands into fists, nails biting into skin. It’s grounding, the sting of pain. With a deep breath, he shoves away the building panic, the questions. Is this permanent? How will he save them like this? What day is it? What—how—when—

  
He takes all of it and locks it down. Distractions and hindrances, that’s what those thoughts are. There’s no time for any of them.  
Five stops and takes a breath. Then he makes a damn sandwich.

  
________________

  
It’s a mad scramble back into the house. Diego and Luther get stuck in the doorway until Klaus rams into their backs and pushes them through. Then there’s a pile of grown men on the ground. Allison grabs Vanya’s elbow to guide her past the boys. There’s a moment where she’s unsure of which part of the house her brother disappeared to. Vanya taps her arm, pointing towards a tie on the ground leading to the kitchen. Their brothers are pushing each other as they get to their feet. Allison marches to the kitchen with Vanya, leaving them to sort themselves out.

  
Five is digging through the drawers, jacket thrown on a chair and pant legs rolled up to reveal socks that are also too big on his feet. He snatches a knife out of the drawer and leans across the counter to drag a cutting board closer. By the time he slams the board onto the kitchen table the boys have made it inside too. Allison stands with them all just watching this strange small version of her brother grab the bread and set it at the table.

  
Klaus moves first, flouncing forward and hopping onto the table. That at least gets the rest of them into the room, though Allison stays standing.  
Without so much as a glance up from where he’s opening the bread bag, Five speaks up. “What’s the date?” he demands, voice high. “The exact date.”

  
“The 24th.” Vanya supplies.

  
“Of what?”

  
“March.”

  
Five nods his head, “Good.”

  
“So, are we going to talk about what just happened?” Luther demands and then gestures at Five. “Or maybe about this?”

  
Five ignores him, laying out slices of bread. Allison waits with baited breath for him to say something, anything really. Luther gets impatient, standing abruptly. “It’s been 16 years and—"

  
“It’s been a lot longer than that.” Five scoffs finally. He steps close to Luther with a glare. Klaus gives a snort from next to Allison, no doubt at the incredible size difference between their brothers. Luther is bigger than all of them but Five comes up to around his waist. With a flash of blue Five disappears and reappears on top of the oven to reach a bag of marshmallows, standing on his toes even then.

  
“Didn’t miss that.” Luther mutters.

  
“Where’d you go?” Diego asks, picking up the conversation.

  
Five holds up the bag of marshmallows, jumping back to the table with them in hand. “The future. It’s shit, by the way.” He says casually.

  
Klaus raises his hand, “Called it.”

  
“Should’ve listened to the old man.” Five comments, moving to the fridge. “You know jumping through space is one thing, jumping through time is a toss of the dice.” He pulls out a jar of peanut butter, moving back to the table.

  
“Is that why you look like a pre-k reject?” Diego asks.

  
Not that Allison isn’t wondering the same thing, but Diego could at least have more tact. Five actually deems the comment worthy of looking up, his face twisted into a scowl.

  
“How did you get back?” Vanya asks quickly, likely hoping to head off an argument.

  
Five’s face smooths out and he looks back down at where he’s smearing peanut butter. “In the end I projected my consciousness forward into a quantum state version of myself that exists across every possible instance of time.”

  
“That makes no sense.” Diego mutters. Allison is inclined to agree with him. It sounds like Five just put together a bunch of impressive sounding words with no actual meaning.

  
“Well, it would if you were smarter.”

  
Luther has to throw out an arm to stop Diego from kicking their brother’s ass. Allison rolls her eyes unsurprised that at his flare of temper. Five doesn’t even look up at the commotion, eyes focused on his sandwich.

  
“How long were you there?” Luther asks.

  
“45 years give or take.” Five answers, smashing the top of his sandwich down.

  
Luther falls back into his chair. “You’re saying you’re 58?”

  
“No,” Five growls looking up. “My consciousness is 58. Apparently, my body is 7 again.”

  
Vanya shakes her head. “Wait, how does that even work?”

  
“Delores said the equations were off. Eh, bet she’s laughing now.”

  
Delores? Who the hell is Delores? “Delores?” Vanya prompts quietly, but Five is already moving on, glancing down at the newspaper.  
Five bites into his sandwich. “Guess I missed the funeral.”

  
Luther squints. “How’d you know that?”

  
“Because even if I couldn’t read the headline there’s the whole future thing. Remember that?”

  
The wave of nostalgia takes Allison by surprise. It’s such a Five thing to say. He always had an attitude, ready to reply to any innocent question with a biting remark. He was an asshole back then. Now, even though he’s tiny, or tinier, he’s still her asshole brother.

  
Five picks up the paper for a closer look. One eyebrow ticks up. “Heart failure, huh?”

  
“No,” Luther says as Diego gives a firm, “Yeah.”

  
Five hums. “Nice to see nothing’s changed.” He grabs his jacket, taking a huge bite of his sandwich as he does, and strolls towards the door in his overlarge clothes.

  
“That’s it. That’s all you have to say?” Allison asks as he passes.

  
“What else is there to say? Circle of life.” He says flippantly.

  
That wasn’t really what she’d meant. 16 years and that’s all he had to say to them? Or 45, if that was even true.

  
“Man, he’s a prick.” Diego declares.

  
Klaus laughs, crawling across the table to grab a marshmallow. “He called you an idiot like, ten minutes after getting back. I really did miss the little guy. Or is it old guy?”

  
“Do we…believe him?” Vanya questions like she doesn’t want to be heard.

  
Allison moves around to sit at the table. “His age has regressed so I mean, that’s time travel, right?”

  
“Yeah, but…45 years? I mean maybe—Dad always said time travel could mess with the mind.”

  
Luther nods. “The physical effect is obvious, who knows what is going on inside his head that we can’t see.”

  
Diego scoffs, “Much as I hate to agree, all that shit sounded crazy.”

  
Klaus leans back on his elbows facing them. “Yeah, but we’ve seen a lot of crazy shit before.” He points out sounding surprisingly coherent.

  
He is right. Allison hates to admit it but…growing up they had seen their fair share of seemingly impossible things. “Look, we just need to keep an eye on him, okay?”  
Around the table there are various noises mostly in agreement.

  
___________________

  
The clothes in his wardrobe are too big.

  
Five groans in frustration and tosses the uniform back inside. Just another reminder that his body is all wrong. There are no more aches. There are no more wrinkles or white hair. No more scars.

  
No more reminders of the life he lived.

  
He kicks the wardrobe’s door, sending the wood swinging. Three deep breaths and he reels the anger back in. He just needs to find Grace and get an old uniform from her.

  
The search ends up being short. Five finds her by her charging station. Sleek black dress and perfect blonde hair. He has to pause, because she looks like someone else. He hates that even though he’s away from the Commission he still sees her.

  
So, Five stands there and notes how the hair isn’t ash blonde, it’s a warmer, golden color. There’s no tell-tale smoke from a cigarette or painted claws. And when Grace notices him her smile, its artificial too, but in a very different way. Grace looks at him and it doesn’t feel like she’s a predator looking for weak spots.

  
Grace stands and walks to him with a familiar click of heels. It makes him tense, but this is Grace not the Handler.

  
“Five, you’re home.” Grace says with that artificial smile.

  
“I need a uniform that fits.” Five has no patience for whatever small talk Grace’s AI will decide is appropriate for the situation.

  
Grace blinks, clearly processing before her face lightens with an acknowledged objective. “Of course! Silly of me, boys’ bodies are always changing.”

  
Five doesn’t comment that usually people’s bodies don’t regress in growth. He follows her without another word until they reach a little used room. There’s furniture covered by white sheets, except for one wardrobe. There are no windows, which makes the room feel dark and enclosed. For an unused room though there’s no dust to be seen anywhere. Grace moves around the stored possessions and pulls out a trunk, opening it to reveal their old uniforms. The color scheme is all different. Five thinks he can remember Hargreeves changing it from black to blue when they were around ten. Something about blue looking heroic.

  
“Here you go, dear.” Grace says, presenting one of the uniforms. “This one matches your current size best.”

  
Five accepts the uniform with a nod and steps into a jump to change.

  
It feels good to have clothes that fit, even if they have the Umbrella Academy crest on them and make him feel like he stepped back into childhood. Not the best but not bad.

  
That taken care of, the next step is to plan. Things would have to be changed now that Five no longer has an adult body.

  
Which might mean involving his siblings. An unfavorable option, but possibly necessary. Perhaps the best option would be to involve the one sibling whose body he’d never found, one that he could trust and one that would stay out of the more dangerous situations.

  
___________________

  
Everyone split-up after the whole Kitchen Talk. It’s not really surprising, considering how they all avoided each other for years. It was nice for that brief moment when they’d all been united in their concern for Five. But when she thinks about that it’s just depressing, because really if that was a high point…well.

  
And then there’s the fact that Five is back.

  
Maybe it’s a good thing she’s alone. Now that all the shock is wearing off it’s hitting her that Five is back. The boy who used to come to her room for late night conversations, the boy who would make faces at her behind their father’s back, the boy who ate fluffer-nutter sandwiches like they were mana. Her best friend, her brother is back.

  
She’s spent so long wishing for him to come home that she almost can’t believe that it has really happened. But everyone saw him so it’s not a dream.

  
Vanya’s hands start shaking. Because yes, her brother is back finally, but he’s not the same. Obviously he looks younger, which is strange—beyond strange. But there’s the rest of it. What she can’t see. Is he okay? The way their father had described time travel’s effects…it left a pit in Vanya’s stomach to think that after everything Five might be struggling with his own mind.

  
The shaking continues and with practiced ease Vanya pulls out her medication and takes a dose. The rising anxiety dulls and she finds herself calming down without it pressing against her ribcage. Her hands steady.

  
Vanya doesn’t have a room anymore, thanks to Klaus, so she wanders the house. Both hoping to see one of the others and wishing not to. She’s not expecting to find Five standing in front of his portrait. Yet there he is staring at his own face with an unreadable expression.

  
It’s rendered to look like him at the time of his disappearance. 13 years old. But there’s something off about it. It isn’t Five, it doesn’t have the spark in his eye and the whole face is too dignified, Five was never one to look so bland. He would smirk or scowl, smile so wide dimples would appear or settle for a cheeky tilt of the lips. The portrait lacks all the little nuances of his face.

  
Now it doesn’t even look like the Five that’s actually here. Five was starting to lose his baby fat when he disappeared, his jawline was defining and his voice was changing. The Five in front of her has a soft face, more youthful than she can remember. He’s smaller than her by more than a foot and she hasn’t grown since she was thirteen. She’s never been taller than any of her siblings. It’s all so strange.

  
The only thing that seems somewhat the same is his eyes. They still show that wicked intelligence, but even they are different. She can’t quite name what it is but they’re firmer, his gaze is weighted in a way it never was before. His eyes don’t quite match the cherubic face.

  
Vanya stops, he hasn’t turned to look at her yet, eyes fixed above the fireplace. She wonders if she should leave, maybe he doesn’t want company and— everything is so different.

  
“Vanya.” He says. His voice is higher with his age.

  
“Nice uniform.” Vanya mumbles. It’s one of their older ones, so he must have had Grace dig one up. It’s black instead of the later version’s blue, with a white and black diamond vest.

  
He pulls his lips back without humor. “Needed something that fit.”

  
Vanya nods her head. What else is there to do? She feels at a loss on what to say. Five and her were close, but the words just seem to be stuck in her throat now.

  
He finally turns away from the fireplace to look at her. It feels like she’s a kid again, just because he’s looking at her with all his attention. She remembers how it felt back then, to be ignored by almost everyone, but to get Five’s undivided attention. It had helped on those days when their father would pretend she didn’t exist, or when he would tell her there was nothing special about her. Because at least she knew that Five thought she was something.

  
“Read your book by the way.” He says casually. Just hearing that phrase has Vanya feeling tense. None of her siblings had appreciated the book. But then, did he actually read it? “Found it in a library that was still standing. Thought it was good, all things considered.” His voice is light. “Definitely, ballsy. Giving up the family secrets.” He pauses, eyes fixed on her, studying her face. “Sure that went over well.”

  
“They hate me.” She finds herself saying without thought. She almost takes it back, but it’s the truth.

  
“Well, there are worse things that can happen.”

  
“You mean like what happened to Ben?” She tests, wondering if he knows. If he read her book then he has to know.

  
He’s quiet for a long moment, small face revealing nothing but his eyes, they soften. “Was it bad?”

  
Vanya finds that she can’t even vocalize it. She didn’t see it happen, only got to witness the aftermath and listen to her siblings’ halting descriptions. She wishes she’d been there, she wishes she could’ve helped.

  
She can’t say it, so she nods. Five looks away.

  
While Five had arguably been Vanya’s favorite, Ben had been a close second. He was quiet and loved books and cared about all of them. He wasn’t as bold as Five, he was more careful about attracting their father’s ire, which hanging around Vanya seemed to do, but there were so many little moments where he did his best. She misses him.

  
“Vanya.” Five starts, breaking the silence that had descended between them and looking at her once more. He looks solemn. “You know what I found when I went to the future?”

  
Vanya stares at him. After how vague he was in the kitchen, she’s surprised at the directness now. “No.”

  
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” His eyes look faraway, like he’s not in the same room as her. “The whole world was wiped out by something. I survived on scraps of food, cockroaches, whatever I could find.” Suddenly his eyes focus on her once more, and there’s definitely a spark in there, but it’s not mischief. “That’s why I’m here. Because in eight days the Apocalypse destroys everything.”

  
The Apocalypse. Growing up, that was Reginald Hargreeves’ obsession. Every day her siblings were reminded of what their ultimate purpose was, to stop the apocalypse. And Five never believed in it. Not really. He always thought it was their father’s instability shining through. Now he’s back after time traveling and it’s one of the first things he tells her. The other being that he’s actually a 58-year old man. She doesn’t want to think it, but it all sounds—

  
“You think I’m crazy.” He says flatly. His face closes off.

  
Vanya finds herself tripping over her words. “No, I—It’s—" Does she think he’s crazy? No, but she thinks something is wrong. “That’s hard to follow, Five.”

  
He hums, like he’s unbothered, but his jaw is tight. It always is when he’s angry. “Where did I lose you?”

  
“The apocalypse.” She says.

  
“What don’t you get about it?” he asks with a little bite leaking through.

  
“What causes it?”

  
Five is no longer even pretending to be unbothered. “I don’t know.”

  
Vanya can see him getting worked up. But she needs to know, to understand. “Okay, why do you look like this?”

  
“I already told you.” His voice is carefully level, like he’s keeping the volume from rising. “The equations were off.”

  
“If you can time travel, then why didn’t you try to come back sooner?” she asks quietly.

  
His face loses its tension, her question shocking him. Then it’s back. “Time travel is a crapshoot at the best of times. You think I didn’t try everything to get back to my family?”

  
“Five, I just—Dad used to say that time travel could mess with the mind. How can you be sure that’s not what’s happening now?”

  
He turns away from her abruptly. “This was a mistake. You aren’t ready. It was naïve to think—”

  
She sees him turn and it’s like she’s sitting at the dinner table again, watching him storm off. “Five, wait! I’m—it’s just a lot to take in is all.”

  
Five stops, looking at her over his shoulder.

  
“It’s been a long day and we’ve still got the funeral. We can talk more when everything has settled down. Please.”

  
All at once the anger seems to drain out of him. “Sure, Vanya.” He says accepting, but he looks tired in that moment.

  
Vanya bites her lip, wondering if she should just apologize for the whole conversation. Why did she open her mouth again?

  
Approaching footsteps distract Vanya from her decision. Luther steps into the room with a serious look. “It’s time.” He says, eyes taking the two of them in. His gaze lingers on Five, a wide array of emotions flitting across his face. With a nod he leaves and they’re left to follow.

  
Time to say goodbye.

  
___________________

  
The whole atmosphere is filled with tension. Most of it from the funeral itself, they are burying their father after all. The different ways they viewed him are certainly bringing out a wide range of emotions.

  
But there’s tension between all the siblings themselves.

  
Allison watches the way Luther looks at them all, not quite trusting. Reginald’s death is weighing heavy on him along with the idea that the man was murdered. Diego is pricklier than ever, it’s clear he’s just waiting for an excuse to fight. Vanya is giving Five sad looks.

  
The only one acting normal is Klaus. Or as normal as Klaus can get.

  
Allison shakes her head at the umbrella Klaus is squeezed under. She had offered to let Five share hers and then Klaus had whipped out a tiny pink one from nowhere. She had watched as Klaus offered it to Five with a wide grin, only for their tiny brother to snatch the big black one out of Klaus’s hand without a backwards glance.

  
The umbrella is massive where it hovers over Five. Meanwhile, raindrops are catching on Klaus’s shoulders. He has his arms wrapped around himself in order to squeeze further under its insignificant canopy.

  
“Did something happen?” Mom asks, curiously.

  
Allison knows she not the only one looking at her in confusion. “Dad died. Remember?”

  
“Oh.” She says, face losing some of its cheer.

  
Allison looks to Diego, asking if she’s okay and he’s quick on the affirmative. But the way his gaze lingers on Mom makes it hard to believe.

  
She looks back to Luther, who’s clutching their father’s ashes close. It’s not good weather for this. It would be so much better if they waited for the rain to clear, but that would be another day of waiting, and it looks like this is something Luther needs. So, she holds her tongue and isn’t all that surprised when the ashes fall into an undignified lump.

  
Allison can hear Klaus hiss at the display, but she’s surprised by the quiet snort from right next to her. She glances to the right quickly, but whatever expression is on Five’s face is mostly obscured by the umbrella.

  
Luther looks sheepish, trying to ease the awkwardness with a few words. Allison seriously doubts some wind would’ve really made this whole affair any better.  
Pogo steps into the void, asking if anyone has anything to say. It’s silent. Allison is surprised, she thought maybe Luther would have a speech or that Klaus would have a weird saying, or even that Diego would go on an angry rant. Personally, she has nothing to say about the man. She spent most of her childhood and early twenties thinking about him. There’s really nothing to say.

  
Pogo seems to realize that no one is going to speak so he steps up. “Very well. In all regards, Sir Reginald Hargreeves made me what I am today. For that alone, I shall forever be in his debt. He was my master…and my friend and I shall miss him very much.” Allison wishes she didn’t have to hear this. The relationship between her father and Pogo had always been strange. But it had always been clear to her that Reginald did not care for the old chimp. Pogo was just another one of his experiments, just like they all were, Reginald didn’t care about any of them beyond their use. She doesn’t like hearing the dedication that Pogo still fosters towards someone who’d been so apathetic. Pogo pauses before continuing, and Allison already knows even before he says them that his words will cause an explosion. “He leaves behind a complicated legacy—”

  
“He was a monster.” Diego interrupts.

  
Luther’s head is snapping over to their brother and Klaus is wheezing a laugh. Not good.

  
“He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

  
Allison doesn’t disagree, but she learned who Reginald was a long time ago. Luther’s still so dedicated, just like Pogo, saying they’re better off with their father dead will surely set him off. “Diego—” she tries.

  
“My name is Number Two. You know why?” he asks, bullheaded and being carried away by his temper. Allison shakes her head, she knows why. He smiles meanly, “Because our Father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.”

  
At her mention, Mom perks up. “Would anyone like something to eat?”

  
“No, it’s okay, Mom.” Vanya reassures gently. Mom keeps smiling.

  
Diego walks forward, standing in the center of attention. “Look you want to pay your respects, go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.” He says this, looking directly at Pogo.

  
“You should stop talking now.” Luther says lowly. It’s a challenge. Or at least that’s how Diego will view it, especially when it comes from Luther. He’s turning to face him, working both of them up with words he knows will get a rise out of the largest Hargreeves. The air is charged with tension. Everyone knows what’s going to happen.

  
Sure enough, punches are being thrown. Allison steps back exasperated. Pogo yells, demanding they stop but they don’t, too focused on each other. To her right Klaus steps in front of Five, crowding the small boy back only to get an annoyed slap for his efforts. It’s that more than anything that gets her moving. The sight of her brother, who looks Claire’s age, watching his brothers violently attack each other. She waits until they break apart and steps between them.

  
“That’s enough.” She says, chin up and daring them to make a move while she stands in the middle. Luther instantly drops his guard and Diego still looks ready to throw a punch, but he doesn’t move forward. “Are you two serious? This is supposed to be a funeral, not some alleyway brawl.”

  
“This is way better than a funeral though.” Klaus complains.

  
“Some things never change.” Five comments, sounding bored.

  
“What was that?” Diego growls, attention turning to Five. Allison wonders if he’s actually going to try kicking a grade-schooler’s ass. She tenses, ready to jump in if necessary.

  
“It’s been what, 16 years? And you two are still fighting like a bunch of Neanderthals over a stick. I thought people were supposed to mature with age.” Is Five’s acerbic reply. Diego sputters enraged and confused at how to respond to a child’s taunt. Allison herself is quiet, unsure what to say following that. Five doesn’t let them get their wits about them, turning and walking back to the house with a, “I don’t have time for this.”

  
They watch him disappear inside, no words between them. Then Klaus starts laughing. “Oh my gosh, you should see the looks on your faces. You just got told off by a 7-year old.”

  
“Shut up.” Diego growls, he walks up to Mom, face evened out, and gently leads her by the elbow inside. Allison wonders what it’d be like if Diego could be that nice to the rest of them. Pogo leaves next, followed by Vanya. Luther catches Allison’s eye but she shakes her head. She doesn’t want to deal with him right now. She feels drained and it’s only been a few hours.

  
She heads inside and just, stops to breathe. This is her family. They’re a mess. Hell, she’s a mess. Together they’re like a tinderbox waiting to catch fire.

  
She doesn’t want that. Allison wants to have conversations with her siblings without it ending with someone angry or hurt. She wants to spend time with them like other families do. She wants to have a real relationship with them, especially after everything they had to deal with growing up. She wants to be a good sister.

  
With a sigh she moves on, walking into the foyer and catching sight of Vanya leaving out the front and Pogo closing the door. “She’s leaving?”

  
Pogo turns, a tight smile on his lips. Understandable after the shitshow of a funeral that just went down. “Yes, she called a cab back home.”

  
“Oh.” She turns away disappointed and then stops, an idea coming to mind. “Pogo, do you have Vanya’s address? Maybe I could, stop by tomorrow?”

  
The old chimp smiles at the suggestion. “Of course. One moment, I’ll write it down.” He hobbles away to find some paper.

  
Allison sighs. She wonders if Vanya would even like her showing up. They’d never been close and after the book—it was hard to not be angry over it. It hadn’t been friendly to Allison. Sure, Vanya had gone after Dad in it, but she went after all her siblings too. They’d never been close, too different and always separated by Reginald, and Allison had been…absorbed in herself. She became an actress, moved to L.A, she has a daughter (barely her mind reminds her). It was easy to put the Academy behind her, siblings included. But seeing them now, she longs for a relationship with them. Reginald’s parenting is a rift between them all, but they’re adults now. They don’t have to let a dead man continue to be their excuse.

  
Pogo comes back with a slip of paper. Allison looks at it, memorizes the address out of habit, and hugs Pogo, wishing him goodnight. He pats her hand with a smile and heads to his room, cane clicking along with him. He’s aged a lot since she last saw him, but he’s still the same old chimp. Always there with gentle words and a kind face.

  
Allison doesn’t go to her room, heading to the kitchen instead. It’s like a gathering place for all of them and she wants to see who is still hanging around. The only ones there are Klaus, sat at the table hugging a guitar of all things, and Five, who is digging around the shelves looking for something.

  
“Hey.” She says to announce herself.

  
Klaus waves his hand, Hello standing out. “What are you looking for?” he asks Five, who is slamming ingredients around angrily.

  
“Coffee.” Is the clipped answer.

  
“Dad hated caffeine. And you shouldn’t be having coffee.” She reminds him.

  
He turns to her scowling darkly, it’s pretty intimidating even on the soft face of a child. “I’m not a child.” He grits.

  
Allison knows it’d be bad to argue. Arguing with Five had always been headache inducing. “Okay,” She concedes. Mental state aside, that’s a child’s body though.

  
A few more moments of frustrated slamming. “I’m taking the car.” He declares.

  
Allison’s eyebrows shoot up, “You know how to drive?”

  
“I know how to do everything.” He snaps back. It sounds so childish she wants to snort, but he is moving to grab the keys to the Hermes.

  
“Wait!” She says right as he disappears in a flash of blue.

  
Klaus stands, looking around. “I feel like we should stop him, but I also want to see what happens.”

  
“Great. You stay here then and I’ll go stop him.” She says pulling her coat back on and running to the door. She can’t just let her tiny brother run out on his own.

  
She hears Diego enter the kitchen asking Klaus, “Where’s she going?”

  
“Five.” Is all Klaus says before the door shuts and the rest of their conversation is lost to her. The sound of a car starting has Allison running into the alley. It turns out she needn’t have worried.

  
Five is sat in the car glaring down at something Allison can’t see. She walks up, tapping on the window. His head shoots up, looking at her darkly, yet he rolls the window down. “What?”

  
“So, I take it you can’t reach the pedals.” She says with a raised eyebrow. She can see he’s pushed the seat up as far as he can and still his feet don’t touch.

  
“I know how to drive.”

  
“Knowing is different than physically being able to.” She comments.

  
He frowns at her, hands tightening on the wheel. He doesn’t look as angry though so that’s a win. Maybe it’s because she didn’t question his ability to do something. She wants to get him back inside, but the odds of that going well are zero. Perhaps, just maybe, this could be a good bonding opportunity. It has been a long time since she saw him, and she isn’t exactly okay with leaving him alone in his…state.

  
“Where are you going?” she asks.

  
“To get a decent cup of coffee.” He answers with suspicious eyes.

  
She nods along. “Alright, I’ll drive you.”

  
He stares at her. She stares back, keeping her face serious. He looks away first, to glance down at the footwell where his legs are clearly too short. “Fine, but I’m not getting in the back.”

  
Take the win, she reminds herself. It wouldn’t do to get into an argument over it.

  
He climbs over the armrest and into the passenger side, strapping in his seatbelt. Even if he’d managed to reach the pedals she wonders how he’d have gotten around barely being able to see above the dash. It doesn’t matter now. She slides in, pushing the seat back and drives. Slower than usual, just to be safe.

  
“Where to?” she asks again.

  
“Griddy’s.”


	2. Donut Mess with a Hargreeves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: okay I think it's ready to post! now I just need to- oh wait, chapter title?
> 
> me: I did it for the first one, so I should do it for this too, nothing too plain tho
> 
> me:*stares at the chapter title*...I guess that works

Growing up like they did left little room for frivolous activities.

No talking at the table. Only eat the approved diet. Training every day and special days reserved for individual training. Scholarly studies when not training. Missions. Press interviews. Photo shoots. _Power Experiments_.

And thirty minutes of free time on Saturdays for anything they wanted to do, so long as it was approved by their father. Reading was fine, depending on the book. But fashion shows with Number Four were forbidden after the first attempt. It was fine to hang out with Number One, or even Number Two, but trying to paint Number Seven’s nails would result in no free time the next Saturday.

It took a long time to learn where the lines were. What she could get away with and where she needed to back off.

There was a rule, not entirely spoken, that Seven was off limits. The only one who openly defied the rule was Five, but he was always pushing the boundaries.

But the one place where they could all forget the rules and just be _frivolous_ was Griddy’s. They _all_ snuck out, though it took a lot of convincing for some of them, and it was like they were normal kids. The diner wasn’t anything special, not to anyone else, but to seven isolated kids it was an escape. They ate all the donuts they wanted, until someone puked usually, and there was no threat for talking to particular siblings. Or for just talking at the table.

It took years for Allison to really realize the things they were taught were frivolities, were just…normal, for kids outside the Academy.

Griddy’s hasn’t changed. The décor is the same and the walls are the same color, just a little faded from age. The yellow lights cast a warm glow around the room. The booth they used to always sit in is still there, she stares at it feeling like it should be filled with kids scarfing down donuts instead of empty.

The diner is deserted though, which makes sense for the time of night.

Five makes a beeline to the counter to sit and ring the bell impatiently. Allison takes the seat on his right, looking around and seeing the ghosts of their childhood. They’re some of the best memories she has from living in the Academy. Maybe that’s why Five chose the place.

The bell over the door chimes and she turns to see a portly tow truck driver enter. He nods to them both and takes a seat to the left of Five.

An older woman finally emerges from the back, hands running down her pink uniform. “Sorry, sink was clogged. What can I get ya?” she asks the man.

“Chocolate éclair.”

She turns to Allison and Five with a smile. Her name tag reads Agnes. She looks familiar, like maybe she’s the same waitress that served them as kids. “Right, and how about you two?”

“I’ll take a chocolate milkshake,” Allison says. She used to get them all the time once she’d discovered you could drink ice cream.

Agnes writes down the order, then glances to Five before looking back to Allison. “Can I get the kid the same thing or something else?” she asks kindly.

The woman must think Five is her kid. Before Allison can say anything Five beats her to it. “The kid wants coffee. Black,” he bites out. Agnes looks at Allison like she’ll have something to say and then Five is pasting on a horrible smile. It’s not right at all. Allison sighs and nods to the waitress, hoping that Five doesn’t see it as her undermining him. She would prefer he didn’t get coffee, but making a scene would be worse. Besides, he probably won’t even like the taste.

Agnes has a strained smile on her face when she goes to fill the order and the tow truck driver is looking at them weird.

“That was rude,” Allison chastises quietly.

Five actually rolls his eyes at her. “I don’t care.”

“It doesn’t hurt to be nice to people,” she presses.

He looks at her like she’s being dense. It’s annoying beyond belief. “Being nice to people makes them think they can take liberties with you. I’d rather be an asshole than have that.” He looks at her, eyes narrowing. “I feel like you should know that better than anyone.”

She does. “I’m very familiar with the concept. That doesn’t mean you should be rude to everyone just because it could happen.”

“I’ll act however I want.” He sounds like such a brat. The tow truck driver is doing his best to not look like he’s hearing everything. He’s also clearly questioning her parenting choices like Five is her unruly kid she’s incapable of wrangling. The man doesn’t know they’re estranged siblings, just like he doesn’t know that she is the last person who should be having trouble getting her kid to do what she wants. She clenches her jaw against the thought, guilt and regret resurfacing with thoughts of Claire.

They fall silent. The old waitress returns with the man’s order and then sets down a milkshake for Allison with a promise that the coffee is almost ready. Allison looks at Five as she takes a sip of her drink. “Why did you say I should know better?”

“You’re famous and a woman. I’m sure everyone tries to take liberties.”

He’s not wrong. “You know what I do?” she asks, because she doesn’t think any of them mentioned it to Five, but she could be wrong.

“I found a magazine in the future,” he replies, “You’re an actress and you have a daughter named Claire.”

“Oh.”

He scoffs at her, eyebrow raised. “Don’t sound so surprised. I already told you I went to the future.”

She swallows. “Yeah, you did.”

His gaze is heavy and knowing. It tells her he knows she didn’t really believe him. It’s clear that he travelled in time, or else he wouldn’t be present, but forty-five years? Five was a child when he left and now his body is even younger, couldn’t that have an effect on his mind? What if his story is all just a coping mechanism?

He stares at her and Allison feels as though she’s being weighed against something. What that could be, she doesn’t know. Words are mulling around in his mind while she waits to see if she passes his judgement.

Their stare down is interrupted when Agnes sets a cup down in front of Five. His gaze shifts away and his lips quirk up at the sight of the bitter liquid. That moment of open happiness makes him look so young, like Claire when Allison would give her pancakes or sit down to play pretend.

Allison jolts suddenly, looking down at her wrist for the time. It’s getting late even with the time difference.

Allison stands. “I have to make a call.”

Five hums, pulling his cup closer and looking relaxed when the smell hits him.

Agnes smiles. “The payphone outside is out of order, but there’s a phone in the back you could use,” she offers.

Allison gives the woman her most gratified look in thanks. “I’ll be right back.” She tells Five, who is busy inhaling the smell wafting from his cup. He glances up briefly, an acknowledgement.

Allison leaves him with the tow truck driver and follows Agnes into the back so she can call her daughter and say goodnight.

***

  


Five inhales the scent of coffee as he watches Allison walk away.

He doesn’t know why he let her come with him and that bothers him. Was it nostalgia and sentimentality? Or maybe the practicality of having a driver? He suspects all of those things, but mostly he thinks there is part of him that is clinging to the hope that she’ll listen.

He keeps his scoff to himself, looking into the dark liquid of his coffee.

He told Vanya what would happen, what he’d seen, and she thought he was crazy.

Allison thinks he’s crazy too, more than that though, she sees him as a child. It’s in the way she stares, her face is softer than any of their other siblings when she looks at him. It makes him itch.

If Vanya wouldn’t even believe him, then why the hell is he wasting time with Allison?

Five takes a sip of his coffee and has to fight back a grimace. The taste is strong and overwhelmingly bitter on his young taste buds. Coffee has never tasted more shitty than in this moment, and the urge to scream at the universe is strong. Coffee is one of his few vices, and one that Delores doesn’t complain about, it used to get him through the day, or night, and now he can’t even properly appreciate it. Yet another draw-back to his regression. He takes another sip which is just as bad as the first, but he’ll be damned if he’s not finishing the cup, the energy it provides is very much needed.

He needs to get rid of the tracker soon, but first…

“You must know the city pretty well.” Five says, addressing the tow truck driver who’s been an awkward witness to a Hargreeves conversation.

The man looks up, surprised at the 7-year old initiating conversation. “I’d hope so. Been driving this city for twenty years.”

Perfect. “I need an address.” A last resort of course. Delores always gave the best advice and if worse comes to worse he’ll go talk to her.

Despite the perturbed look on the man he produces a pen from his pocket and writes down the address to Gimbel Brothers on his napkin. Five folds the napkin carefully and tucks it away in a pocket. The man stands with a groan and a nod of the head and leaves with a ringing bell to accompany his departure.

Five turns back to his cup, ready to grimace through the rest of it. The bell above the door rings again.

It’s the sound they make that tips him off first. The heavy steps of booted feet and the distinct clunking of weaponry is a familiar song. A glance at the service bell’s reflection is a confirmation.

It is a surprise that they found him so soon. He’d expected to have at least a few more hours to deal with the tracker. An underestimation that he won’t be making again.

“Thought I’d have more time before they found me.” Five says without turning, drawing the man into conversation. He lets his eyes sweep around the diner, careful not to move his head while he takes stock of what’s available. He looks back to the service bell tracking the five men’s movements and positions.

Taking them out will certainly be harder in this body, but not impossible. These men are foot soldiers, the lowest tier of the Commission, Five was their top assassin and before that he had been part of Reginald Hargreeves’ troupe of child soldiers.

“They want to talk.” The leader is saying. Which is either a lie or the Handler really does want to talk, and then kill him herself.

It doesn’t matter which. “I have nothing to say.”

The man keeps talking, continuing to try and persuade Five. A strange and rare trait for someone at the Commission. Five almost feels bad about what he has to do. He’ll try to make it quick and clean at least.

“You think I want to shoot a kid? Go home with that on my conscience?” the leader is saying.

Five reaches for the butter knife next to his cup. “I wouldn’t worry about that. You won’t be going home.”

And then he jumps.

***

Allison kicks the desk in frustration. Patrick wouldn’t let her talk to her daughter.

_“She’s getting ready for bed.”_

_“Please, Patrick. Just let me say goodnight.”_

_“She has a routine, Allison. You’re late calling and I don’t want her riled up and unable to settle down.”_

_“Patrick, just let me—”_

_“No. I’m sorry Allison. You can call again tomorrow, goodnight.”_

She leans back against the desk, rubbing her face. Could she really be so surprised? After what she did? Patrick is wary of her for a reason. It doesn’t make it hurt any less to be denied the right to talk to her daughter.

Allison sighs, looking up as the door creaks open and Agnes sticks her head in.

“I’m sorry, were you done?” the waitress asks.

Allison straightens up, pushing back the frown on her face with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry I didn’t mean to take up your office space.”

Agnes waves the apology away, fully entering the room. Her tone turns apologetic. “Sounded like a tough conversation, not that I was eavesdropping. The door doesn’t muffle everything though.” Agnes holds up a bag. “Here, this one’s fresh from the kitchen. On the house of course.”

Allison takes the bag, peeking inside to see a chocolate frosted donut nestled inside. While she would have preferred to not have anyone witness her phone call, the gesture is very sweet. “That’s very kind of you.”

Agnes shakes her head. “It’s only a small thing. But I often find my mood lifted after a fluffy donut.” She shrugs a little sheepishly, “If you need another moment—”

The sound of shots being fired interrupts whatever offer Agnes was about to make.

Allison’s body reacts without thought, dropping to the floor. Agnes flinches away from the door and Allison takes the opportunity to pull the woman down and then behind the desk. The sporadic sound of gunfire is piercing.

Allison feels like there’s lead in her stomach. Outside that door the diner is being shot up. Outside that door is her little brother and the diner is getting shot up and he’s a child—

Five is out there. Five is in danger.

Allison grabs Agnes’s arm hard, drawing the frightened woman’s eyes to her. “Agnes. I need you to lock the door after me and then call the cops,” she orders calmly. “Do you have any weapons in here?”

The woman shakes her head hysterically, shrinking back at another burst of gunfire. “You can’t go out there!”

“I have to. My brother is out there.” Allison says firmly. Time is wasting and Five could be bleeding out or—

“Weapons?” Allison asks again.

Agnes shakes her head.

Allison doesn’t sigh. She’ll figure out what to do when she can actually assess the situation beyond the door. She crawls to the door and opens it quietly. The kitchen is empty. Through the service window she can see the ceiling lights flashing from being hit by stray bullets. Allison let the office door close behind her, staying below the sightline of the doors’ windows and the service window.

More shots go off, sounding deafening without the flimsy office door between her and the sound. The all too familiar _fwump_ of Five’s powers mix in with the bullets. Allison moves to the door, relieved to hear her brother moving and scared that at any moment he’ll catch a bullet. As she passes the counter the lights catch on metal, drawing her eye.

Knives were always Diego’s thing, but desperate times.

***

The gunman’s confusion at the tie that suddenly appears wrapped around his neck is short-lived. Five slips through space behind him, landing on the table at the man’s back and grabbing the cloth. Five throws himself over the side before the man can react, using his weight and gravity to pull the man down and ultimately snap his neck.

The next man comes at Five with his gun out of position. It’s sloppy, and it makes stabbing his groin with a pencil all the more easy. The man doubles over in pain and Five uses the free time to throw a plate at the actually competent man who is getting into position to shoot. It’s not enough to cause damage but it’s a hell of a distraction while Five stabs the pencil into the sloppy man’s eye socket.

One left. No, Five corrects himself. Two left, the man he stabbed with a mop is getting back up. Not enough force behind that attack then.

Both men are standing up and getting their guns into position. One more well placed jump and they might just shoot each other and do the work for him. Five sucks in a breath, the exertion of the fight making him pant, and he runs at the counter. In his peripheral he can see the men move, guns tracking him. He leaps right before the counter, calling on his powers to pull apart space.

Blue shimmers in the air but space does not part.

Five has a moment to process this before he slams into the counter, sliding across it and into the open air behind it.

“Fuck!” He yells right before crashing into the floor on the other side, napkin holders clattering down with him.

The breath rushes out of Five and he doesn’t get a chance to regain it before the two men are peeking over the counter with their guns raised. All he can think in that moment is that this is a rather humiliating end to his life.

Shots are fired. Five is shocked when they don’t hit him.

The man, the same one he stabbed with a mop, is now slumping onto the counter with a knife in his back. The second man is stumbling back from the blonde and blue blur that is Allison. She presses her advantage, moving in close so the man can’t use his gun. He ends up abandoning it to hang from its strap in order to block the blows that Allison is raining down. She lands a hit to his face and he pays her back with a fist in her solar plexus.

Five needs to end this. He scrambles to the man slumped on the counter, straining to push his body aside so he can reach the gun beneath.

His hands close around metal.

Allison punches the man, causing him to stumble, and follows it up with a spinning kick that sends him careening into the wall.

Five aims and squeezes the trigger.

Blood erupts from the man and his body slumps limp down the wall.

Allison stumbles back in surprise. Head whipping back to Five and then returning to the man.

The diner descends into silence, it’s so loud without the sounds of fighting. The only noise that breaks it is Allison and Five’s heavy breaths. The lights continue to flicker in a way that’s becoming nauseating the longer it goes on. Allison stares at the man against the wall then her gaze shifts to the other bodies, taking in the entire scene now that there’s no threat.

Finally, she meets Five’s eyes.

***

It looks like scene straight out of a horror film.

Flickering lights and blood splatters all around.

She ignores it for now, staring at Five who’s still behind the counter, right next to the man she stabbed. She thinks maybe she should feel more distraught about what she’d done. She doesn’t.

Allison had come out of the kitchen and watched her little brother stab a man in the eye and then fail a spatial jump. Then the last two men were raising their guns, ready to kill him, and Allison had needed to move because they were going to shoot her brother. It was them or Five and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let it be Five.

Five’s still holding a gun. He just killed a bunch of grown men and Allison also killed a man. She’s not really sure what to say.

The gun drops with a clatter and Five heaves himself onto the counter to slide back over. His hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, and she can see that his knees have been skinned from his fall. Allison gets to him right as his feet touch the ground, crouching so she can look at him properly. He flinches back at her sudden proximity, it’s small but she catches it. “Five, are you okay?”

He blinks at her, seeming surprised. “I’m fine.” A drawn-out pause. “You okay?”

“ _Me_?” she snorts, “Yeah, I’m good. I wasn’t the one they were shooting at.” She looks him over again in case she missed a bullet wound, but he remarkably seems intact.

Five shrugs. “You did just stab a man.”

“Yeah well—" Allison gently knocks her knuckles against his sternum “—I wasn’t about to let him get you.”

Five does another one of those surprised blinks. It’s more endearing than it has any right to be, especially after what just happened.

Allison stands back up, letting Five have some space now that she knows he’s not mortally wounded.

The air is thick with smoke and the metallic scent of blood. Allison allows herself to look at the bodies again, studying them.

The men have tactical gear on and automatic rifles. Not the kind of set up you need to rob a donut shop late at night. Five of them, too. “Do you know why they were here?”

“They were looking for me.”

“What?” Allison questions. Five is crouched over one of the men, pawing around the body. “Did you know them?”

“Not personally, but I know the organization they worked for,” Five says cryptically. He stands up, moving to the counter and rolling up his sleeve.

Allison opens her mouth to ask him to elaborate, but what comes out is a screeched “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” and then she’s running over to try and stop him from stabbing himself. He has a knife in his arm, blood running down his pale skin. Allison desperately wants to reach out and snatch the knife, but she knows how dangerous it can be to interfere when someone holds a blade. As soon as the knife touches the counter Allison grabs it.

Five is completely unbothered by her confiscation, focused on digging his fingers into the cut that he made. He grunts in pain, still digging. “Five…” Allison chokes out, disgust and sympathy pain closing her throat.

But Five. He pulls something out and holds it up.

A pill sized slip of metal shines back at them.

“Is that…” Allison trails off.

“A tracker.” Five looks up at her now.

That green light shines bright in little blood coated fingers.

They’re standing in a destroyed diner with corpses growing cold around them. It really hits her, that these men weren’t just looking for her brother, they were hunting him, with military grade tactical gear. Her brother who fell from the sky looking like a 7-year old and claiming to be 58.

It’s starting to sound like the truth.

Tugging at her sleeve has Allison looking down. Five studies at her with a frown. “We should go.”

*

They walk out with glass crunching under their feet.

Allison takes a deep breath, the leftover scent of rain on asphalt clearing out the lingering smell of smoke and blood. Five trails after her, hair sticking to his forehead and blood splattered on his jacket, masked slightly by the black color. The tracker slips from his fingers and into the wet gutter.

Despite his claims of being fine it’s clear that Five is exhausted. As for Allison, she’s…processing.

The Hermes sits as they’d left it, however long ago that was (it felt like hours had passed). Allison climbs in, starting the engine. Five sits stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed. Allison pulls out of the parking lot, aware that the police are likely to show up at any moment.

They remain silent, putting Griddy’s well behind them. A glance at Five and she sees his head bobbing, fighting sleep. It reminds her of those nights when Claire would wait up for Patrick, she would desperately try not to fall asleep and her head would dip only to bounce back up and then repeat the process.

It’s so easy to look at Five and see the same thing. To see a little kid.

  


***

“Five. Hey, Five.”

He jolts out of his fuzzy half-conscious state at the press of a finger to his side, looking around warily. Allison is leaning towards him, hand still extended. “Hey, we’re back. Thought we could get your arm patched up.”

“Right,” he breathes, heartrate slowing.

Five can’t jump, or at the very least he’d end up unconscious, so he climbs out of the car and follows Allison inside by foot.

They walk to the infirmary, catching a glimpse of Pogo on his way towards the basement, but no one else is walking around the academy.

Allison switches the lights on to the room. Five can remember all his visits here. Not for himself, but whenever his siblings would get injured. Klaus when he broke his jaw and had it wired shut. Luther when he strained some muscles during personal training. Diego when he got hypothermia from prolonged submersion. Allison when Luther broke her arm during sparring. Ben who’d been the most frequent patient in the infirmary because the monsters caused havoc on his stomach, whether it be tearing or nausea.

It was always a balancing act to not show too much concern or visit them too much, no matter how much he wanted to, if Hargreeves noticed then he would abuse it (it was like a game for the man, to twist their relationships into whatever he pleased). That was what growing up here had been like for Five, constantly walking a tightrope between caring and not letting it show.

Vanya was the only one he let himself relax the act around, because she hardly ever got attention and when she did have it, she would be put down. Five gave her his attention, even when it made Hargreeves mad.

“Five,” Allison calls, her voice bringing him back from reminiscing. He focuses on her again, dragging his mind away from the past. She’s giving him a contemplative look. “We need to talk.”

This…this could be good. Five can feel the dangerous tendrils of hope taking root in his gut.

Five hit his limit tonight, much faster than he should have, which just proves that his initial plan to get help wasn’t illogical. While he’d hoped to get Vanya’s help, before ultimately failing, Allison was a good option, maybe even the best. She handled the night with aplomb, and after everything that went down, she couldn’t exactly brush off what he tells her.

While he would really love to take care of it himself, Griddy’s had emphasized some of the logistical problems with that.

He hums, moving to sit.

“You mentioned an organization.” Allison prompts, moving to grab first aid supplies.

“The Commission. They monitor all of time, making sure that what happens…happens.” He bites his lip, before deciding to just rip the bandage off. “I used to work for them, before I came here.”

Allison pauses to look at him properly. “Doing what?”

“Corrections. Whenever someone steps out of line or disrupts events in the timeline the Commission sends an agent to correct it. How they correct it can vary but the most common way, my specialty, was assassination.” He won’t hide that fact from her. She has to know that he isn’t innocent.

Allison is staring, eyebrows rising. “You were an assassin?”

“ _Yes,_ ” he growls. “You saw the diner, didn’t you? Not my best work, but usually I’m not…this.” He waves his less bloody arm at his body.

She opens her mouth and then stops with a thoughtful look at him. “Okay,” she says slowly. “So, are they after you because you stopped working for them or…”

“Partially, yes.” Five answers, glad that she’s not trying to refute him. “It’s more about the reason why I left, though I did break my contract.” This is the important part, and the one that would be easiest for her to dismiss. “When I went to the future, I was stuck there for forty-five years. There was…nothing. All life on the planet had been wiped out by something. I was the only one left.” Allison has a crease between her eyebrows all her focus on him. “That’s why I came back, to stop the apocalypse from happening. And that’s why the Commission is after me, they want it to happen.”

Allison rubs her eyes. “Five that’s—”

“I’m not crazy.” He snaps, unwilling to hear that he isn’t thinking straight. To hear that his experience was all in his head.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Allison promises, and seems to remember that she was doing something. She brings her supplies over to the table. “No. I believe you, Five. I mean, it’s hard to wrap my head around, but I believe you.”

“Do you?” Five muses, not fully intending for it to be out loud.

Allison sighs. “Look, I know you don’t trust me when I say that. But what I need you to trust is that I want to help you.”

He could work with that. “Alright,” he concedes.

“Great,” she moves closer and Five rolls his sleeve back. His arm isn’t bleeding very much anymore. Allison cradles his arm gently. The touch sends tingles up his arm in a way that’s one half painful and the other pleasant. He shoves that feeling down deep, ignores that her touch is the first friendly one he’s felt in forty-five years. “How are you planning to stop the apocalypse?” Allison asks as she cleans the wound.

“I have a lead,” Five answers, using his unoccupied hand to pull out the pouch from his pocket and then the eye.

Allison stares at the eye with a raised brow. “Why is that a lead?”

“It belongs to the person who causes the apocalypse.” He leaves out where exactly he found the eye. “With this I can get the name of that person.”

Allison finishes taping a bandage over his wound and holds her hand out, silently asking to hold the eye. Five’s fingers coil around it tighter before he forcibly relaxes them and lets her take the eye. She rolls it around, examining the brown iris and then flipping it around to look at the serial number on the back. “Meritech?” she asks, passing it back to him.

“They’re the manufacturer. I can get the name from them.” Allison frowns. “Yes, I can see how my current status would make their cooperation difficult. Which is why I was thinking you could help me by coming and lending the credibility of an adult.”

Allison shakes her head, frowning still. “It’s not just that, Five, this is a prosthetic. There’s patient confidentiality that will keep them from giving us that file.”

Five quirks his lips. “Then it’s a good thing you have a way around that.”

He expects her to smile, or laugh, but instead her eyes turn steely. “I don’t do that anymore.”

He looks at her in disbelief. “You don’t use rumors anymore? Not can’t, _don’t _.”__

__“That’s what I said,” She affirms._ _

__“Why not?” he snaps, still trying to wrap his head around the information. Allison had never been shy about using rumors. But she didn’t even use them in the fight tonight, he realizes._ _

__“Because I...they hurt the people around me, Five. _I _hurt the people I love most and-I won't do it again.”___ _

___Five can’t hold in his laugh. It comes out disbelieving and angry, harsh to his own ears. “Are you kidding me? You choose now to grow a conscience?” he asks the world at large. Because really? This is his luck at work. He gets Allison to believe him and it turns out she is now morally against using her powers, which would be a great asset in stopping the apocalypse._ _ _

___Allison flinches back like he slapped her, standing up and putting distance between them. “You don’t understand,” she says turning her back to him._ _ _

___“I don’t _understand_? I don’t think you understand.” Five hops to his feet. “The fate of the _world_ , Number Three. You need to get over this hang-up or you’re no help to me.”_ _ _

__She faces him again with a dark glower. “ _Hang-up_?” Five knows immediately that he’s crossed some sort of line with her. “Listen here, _Number Five_.” She steps closer, towering over him. “You don’t get to just waltz back into my life and _judge me_ for my choices without understanding why I’ve made them. I don’t care what you’ve been through, you don’t have the right.” She pauses like she’s waiting to see if he has anything to say. Five bites down on his tongue hard to keep from speaking. “This conversation is over. I’ll call a family meeting in the morning.”_ _

__“Why the hell would you do that?” Five bites out._ _

__Allison looks at him incredulous. “So, they know that there are people gunning for you. Then we can all decide how to deal with…” she waves her hand at him but can’t seem to find the right word. She pinches the bridge of her nose as if to stave off a headache. “We can all work out how to keep you safe in the morning. Try to get some sleep.” And then she walks out, leaving Five standing alone in the infirmary._ _

__He would laugh if he didn’t feel so wrung out. He isn’t the one that needs protection, the apocalypse is coming, and it’ll kill all his siblings, horrifically. He has a lead and seven days now. He can’t waste time on a family meeting, where everyone will yell and argue over each other and get in his way. He needs to get the information on the eye and then kill whoever it goes to._ _

__Meritech will be harder without Allison, but not impossible._ _

______________________ _

__  
_ _

__The crime scene is a mess. Diego looks around the shop in awe. He hasn’t seen a scene like this in a while._ _

__After kicking Klaus out of his car at the bus station Diego had made the drive to Griddy’s, of all places. First responders were already there with forensics, documenting the scene and examining the bodies._ _

__Whoever these guys had been, they were professional. Their equipment was much higher grade than the local thugs that roamed the streets._ _

__The cause of death ranges from stabbed, shot, and, in one case, a broken neck. That guy is splayed across a table, neck bent unnaturally far back with what looks like a tie wrapped around his collar. The guy sprawled on the floor near Broken Neck was apparently killed with a pencil. There’re two other bodies with stab wounds, one in the neck and another in the back with the last guy dead by bullet. Diego is reluctantly impressed._ _

__The paramedics are finishing up with the witness to the crime, the waitress, dressed in a pink uniform and with her hair slowly falling from its bun._ _

__Diego saunters over as the paramedics pack up. “Ma’am.”_ _

__She glances up shakily. He peeks at her name tag. “Agnes?” She nods her head. “Think you could answer some questions for me? I understand this must be difficult.”_ _

__“Yes, but, uh, I can try.” She looks around the room with wide eyes._ _

__Diego slides down across from her and puts a hand on her wrist. “Focus on me. Can you do that, Agnes?”_ _

__The woman nods._ _

__“That’s good. Now can you tell me what happened?”_ _

__“Well.” She stops to clear her throat. “It was a slow night. I had three customers come in not long before. I was in the backroom with one of them when I heard the shots. I didn’t actually see what happened, I just locked the door and hid under the desk until the police showed up.”_ _

__“You and this customer hid?” Diego clarifies._ _

__“N-no. She told me to lock the door and call the police and then she went out here. I d-don’t see her…” Agnes trailed off, her eyes darting towards the scene._ _

__Diego leans forward and squeezes the woman’s hand, drawing her eyes back to him. “We’ve found no women ma’am,” he reassures. “Why did this customer head towards the gunmen?”_ _

__“She said her brother was out here. I thought he was her son when they first came in if I’m honest.”_ _

__“You get any names? So we can find them and get some statements.”_ _

__“Ah, no,” Agnes frowns. “The sister ordered…a chocolate shake, she was dark skinned with blonde hair. Her brother, she let him order a black coffee which surprised me cause he was so young.”_ _

__“How young?”_ _

__“Ah, elementary age? Somewhere right in there. He was Caucasian, dark hair, and he was wearing a uniform. Some private school I think,” Agnes supplies._ _

__Diego stares, thoughts niggling in the back of his mind. “This uniform…was it a black and white vest with a black blazer.”_ _

__“Yes,” the woman brightens momentarily. “It had a crest too, though I couldn’t make out the whole thing. Are you okay, dear?”_ _

__Diego was not okay. “Yes, ma’am, you’ve been a big help. Someone will be by shortly to help you.” With that he stood, hurrying away from the table so he could sort his thoughts without Agnes’s concerned gaze on him. He goes to the back-storage room of the diner, where very little foot traffic is filtering through._ _

__“Holy shit,” he whispers to himself. Allison and Five were there tonight. Klaus had said they left the house together, but Diego hadn’t made the connection until the waitress mentioned the uniform._ _

__It sounded like Allison fought the guys, and Five was apparently in the main area of the diner when the shooting started. He felt his heart stutter at the image of his little brother in the middle of a shootout with only Allison for back up. Never mind that Diego hadn’t really cared what the little shit was up to earlier, that was before he came to a crime scene that his siblings had been all over. The only real reassurance was that Allison had been present and there were no bodies matching his siblings._ _

__He needs to talk to them, figure out what exactly went down tonight because this wasn’t a regular robbery. Not with how geared up the gunmen were._ _

__Shit anything could have happened. Diego needs to find the two of them, make sure they’re okay and then grill them to hell and back._ _

__Target in mind, Diego makes his way outside through the back exit of the building. Patch meets him there with a Taser and an unimpressed look. Diego has only a moment to get out one word before his body is seized with electricity and he collapses._ _

__It takes several minutes for him to recuperate. In that time Patch gets handcuffs on him. Once he is stable again, she hauls him to his feet. “What have I told you about coming to my crime scenes, Diego? And talking to my witnesses?”_ _

__“Wait. Eudora—”_ _

__“Don’t call me that,” she says exasperated._ _

__“Look I have to go, it’s really important.”_ _

__“It’s always important, but maybe this will get it in your head. Stay away from my witnesses.” She frog-marches him toward a cruiser, ignoring his protests._ _

__“Patch. I know two of the witnesses,” he hisses, leaning in close._ _

__She leans back, turning him to face her, “What the hell Diego.”_ _

__“I think my sister and brother were here tonight.”_ _

__“Are you serious right now?”_ _

__“Yes! That’s why I need you to let me go.”_ _

__Patch groans in frustration. “I can’t just let you go, Diego!”_ _

__“Eudora—”_ _

__“Don’t,” she warns, “Look, this isn’t just about me and you. The Chief wants us to start cracking down on _unapproved personnel_ at crime scenes.”_ _

__“Always knew he was a dick.”_ _

__“I agree with him, Diego! You can’t keep doing this!” Patch sucks in a breath, settling back into professionalism. “I’ll call wherever it is they are staying and make sure they’re safe. _You_ are going to spend the night in holding and in the morning, you can do whatever you want. I am going to track down my third witness and have a chat with him tomorrow, then I’ll be coming to speak with your siblings. That’s the best I can do.”_ _

__Diego clenches his teeth and nods, knowing it isn’t up for debate. “Ask for Allison and Five, they should be at the academy.”_ _

__She nods along and then pauses. “Wait, Allison the movie star? And…who is Five?”_ _

__“Yes, her. And he’s my brother, who is a dick.”_ _

__Patch raises a brow, “So it runs in the family.”_ _

__“Adopted brother,” Diego corrects._ _

__Patch shakes her head, pushing him to the police cruiser._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay seriously I hope this turned out well, I have been working on it all week and it's different than the first two versions I had. There was a lot of obsessive tweaking, and the urge is still there honestly but I need to stop and chill.
> 
> I had to debate with myself on whether Allison would stab a man or not. Then I ended it because she is a MOM whose brother-that-looks-like-a-baby is about to be killed...Allison is stabbing a man.


	3. Rude Kid Wants to Speak with Your Manager

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Welcome to my circus *proceeds to try juggling a bunch of characters*  
> Me: Shit.

Moni loves her job. It’s not the most exciting, besides the occasional quirky patient or when a scheduling is messed up. But she loves it, she gets benefits and she can people watch.

She shows up right on time, just after the doors are unlocked and grabs her morning tea so she can settle down behind her desk comfortably. The lobby is empty, as it usually is at the very start of business hours. The first patients often show up thirty minutes after opening, so she feels comfortable with slipping her book from her bag and reading a few pages to pass the time.

She’s a paragraph in, starting to be drawn into the story once more, when a throat clearing startles her into slamming the book closed. Her page isn’t even marked.

Across from her, just barely peeking over the top of her desk, is a little boy looking at her with his eyebrows drawn down. “Ah, sorry. How can I help you?” she asks, looking around for his parents.

“I need you to look up a serial number for me,” he intones seriously.

Moni smiles at him, still glancing around for any parental figures. “I can’t do that.”

“Get me someone who can then.”

Her eyes snap back to him surprised by the brusque tone and lack of manners. He stares right back unapologetic. “Do you have some parents with you?”

“Of course not,” he answers like the very thought is absurd. “I just need to know who this belongs to.” He then holds up an eyeball for her to see.

Moni feels her heart stutter before she realizes it’s a prosthetic. “Where did you get that?” she asks, still a little thrown. This is all very unusual.

The boy’s eyes narrow, like he’s the one who should be suspicious. “Doesn’t matter.” Which really makes Moni worry even more.

“Are there any adults with you? Perhaps, I could talk to them and straighten this whole situation out.” She’s hopeful that there will be a rational adult with him.

The boy looks indignant. “No, you can straighten it out with me. I just need a name so I can…return the eye.”

Moni nods along, “Alright. Look there’s the issue of confidentiality, you can’t just have a patient file, it’s a breach of their privacy.” He stares at her, and she wonders if he’s even comprehending what she’s saying. Then again he is very well spoken, so maybe he’s not used to being told no. “Let me call someone up to help you,” she offers and dials security.

Michael from security comes quickly, looking around for a threat and only seeing a little boy. Granted the boy is giving him a glare that is rather…murderous, for his age. Moni smiles, ignoring the intense aura of anger in front of her.

“Michael, could you take this young man to a conference room and try to locate his guardians? I think he’s wandered off without them.”

Michael nods, relaxing his stance and approaching the boy amiably. “C’mon, sport, I’ll help you find your parents.” He reaches a hand out to guide the boy.

The boy ducks the gesture and walks briskly away. “Damnit,” he mutters as he goes.

Michael follows him concerned, “Hey, kid, hold up.”

The boy throws open the lobby doors and Michael manages to catch them before they close, freezing as he steps into the hallway beyond. Slowly he walks back into the lobby. Moni leans across her desk in interest.

“He’s gone.”

“What?” Moni asks, standing up herself.

“He was right in front of me and now he’s just gone,” Michael says confused.

Moni sits back down. “I’ll call downstairs and let them know there’s an unaccompanied minor wandering around, have them let other departments know too.”

“I’ll go walk the halls, just to be sure,” Michael decides, disappearing through the doors once more.

Moni calls downstairs, book forgotten in favor of locating the rude kid that can apparently vanish into thin air.

***

Vanya is up earlier than she really needs to be, making her way to the Academy.

While she does have lessons that day it’s not what had her jumping out of bed. With wakefulness came the memory of the day before and everything that happened. The funeral and her siblings but most importantly Five coming home.

Once that memory hit, she couldn’t stay in bed, she had to talk to him and just…see that it really happened.

Her taxi stops outside her old home and she doesn’t feel the spike of anxiety that usually follows at the sight. She’s excited, and a bit nervous, to talk to her brother again. She hasn’t felt so…energized in a long time.

The house is silent, those staying there more than likely still asleep. She wonders if she’s too early for Five to be awake.

Vanya pauses next to the lounge. Someone is muttering inside.

Cautiously, she creeps through the doorway and stops. It’s Klaus. He doesn’t have any clothes on except for multi-colored leopard print underwear. Vanya is just grateful he has something on (even as she feels a little tug of anger at him for lying in a drugged-out state where their little brother could see), there have been several incidents of overexposure that she would prefer not to repeat.

Quietly. She backs out of the room, heading up the stairs. She’s about to head up to Five’s room, up a lesser used staircase, when Five himself comes down them.

He has a pensive look on his face, hands at his sides in loose fists.

“Five,” she calls softly.

His head whips to her clearly surprised before his face settles into a more neutral look. His hands straighten and slip into his pockets. It’s like watching a mask slide into place. Vanya’s gut clenches, wondering if he’s angry.

“Vanya,” he acknowledges, coming closer. “To what do I owe the early morning visit?”

“Five I, uh, I needed to see you.” She looks down, unable to meet his gaze as she admits, “After yesterday I had to make sure this wasn’t a fever dream or something.”

He’s silent for long enough that she looks back up. He’s not looking at her. “I’m here,” he says softly.

“Yeah. That’s not all though,” Vanya starts, “I wanted to apologize. About yesterday.” She cringes at how stilted it comes out. “What you were saying—I was dismissive, and I couldn’t wrap my head around what you were telling me. I still can’t, I guess.”

“Well, maybe you were right,” Five concedes. Vanya gives him a surprised look. “There was a lot happening yesterday and time travel isn’t exactly easy. It felt real, but maybe it really was in my head.”

“Five,” Vanya starts, hesitant, “if you need to talk to someone, I know a therapist, I used to go to her. I could give you her information, maybe she could help you work things out. Better than I could at least.”

Five shakes his head, “Thanks, but I think I’ll just…settle back in. It’s been a long time since I was home, I think I’ll rest and get used to it again.”

“Of course,” Vanya agrees. “If you need anything though, you can come to me, okay?”

“I will,” Five promises. He smiles at her. It doesn’t make it to his eyes.

“Okay,” Vanya turns back to the stairs. At the top she pauses and looks back at Five, he’s watching her back with an unreadable look. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too,” he replies seriously.

Vanya nods and leaves. She’ll go prep for lessons, then maybe come back in the evening.

*

Five waits until he hears the front door close with Vanya’s departure.

The eye is lead in his pocket.

Silently he moves downstairs. He hadn’t made progress with Meritech that morning. A new approach was needed. Five turns left at the bottom of the stairs, heading into the lounge.

Klaus is on the couch, muttering and shivering in some kind of dream. Five has no desire to touch his brother when he’s so underdressed, knocking on the coffee table instead.

The sound seems to register in Klaus’s unconscious mind. He jolts up, bleary and bloodshot eyes not altogether coherent yet. His eyes finally focus on Five and he flinches back, face twisting with surprise and fear.

His mouth opens and Five does the only thing he can.

*

Ghosts are haunting Klaus’s dreams again. A distant part of him notes that the drugs must’ve worn off because instead of the usual weirdness his drugged brain comes up with, he is having a nightmare. He flinches as the voices pick up, angry and demanding, their tones switching between whispers and screams.

It’s a relief, when he jolts out of it, a noise in the room filtering through his consciousness. He looks around, bleary. His eyes are burning from the lack of sleep among other things. He passes over Ben who’s lurking on the chair in front of the fireplace looking directly at something. Klaus looks too and feels his heart stop.

It’s Five. It’s Five it’s Fiveitsfiveitsfive…

He pushes back further against the couch as one of his greatest fears comes true in front of him. His brother is dead and coming to haunt him.

Ben’s voice filters through, but not enough for his words to make sense. Klaus feels like he’s going to scream, in fact that seems like a great idea.

Klaus opens his mouth and is promptly smothered by a pillow.

It does more to reassure Klaus than anyone except Ben will know.

He stops struggling, reaching a hand to tap his brother’s shoulder so he’ll stop. Slowly the pillow lifts and Klaus is met with Five’s scowl. Klaus drinks in that, _very_ , young looking face and then looks at the rest of him. No blood dripping from any horrifying wounds.

No, Five looks like the bratty little boy who used to spout big words from the dictionary just to make all of them feel inferior, right down to the uniform. This blast from the past is suddenly a lot more pleasant.

“You okay Klaus?” Ben asks, hovering behind Five.

Klaus nods his head to him. “Well, I’m awake now,” Klaus groans for Five’s benefit.

“No shit,” Five says in a high-pitched voice. Klaus can’t stop the laugh that bursts out of him, a mixture of his fading hysteria and genuinely finding it funny, and he’s rewarded with the pillow shoved over his face once more.

Klaus slides off the couch to escape suffocation to the tune of Ben snickering. He glares at his ghostly brother before looking at his little bastard one. “Why are you trying to kill me so early in the morning?”

Five raises an eyebrow and tosses the pillow behind him without looking. “I’m not. I just didn’t want you to wake the whole house up.” His eyes flick over Klaus’s face and then dart away. “You need to put on your most professional clothes.”

“Why?” Klaus asks.

“You’re running an errand with me,” Five states. “And you look terrible.”

“Am I still high? Because I really wish I was.” Klaus crawls toward his pants, digging through the pockets.

“You’re all out.” Ben supplies, sounding far too smug for Klaus’s liking.

Ben could be lying. Klaus keeps digging in the hope that he is. A pair of tiny little black shoes stop in front of him and there’s a matching tiny hand snapping in front of his face like he’s a dog. “Focus, Klaus. This is important.” Five’s serious voice says.

“Ugh, what is this errand? Because I have my own important business to attend to.”

“Getting high isn’t important.” Both his brothers say. At the same time. It’s creepy. Ben is actually looking at tiny little Five like he hung the moon or something.

Klaus sighs. There’s nothing left from last night. “So, this errand. You can’t just ask Allison or Luther to go? It has to be me?” he asks, slightly interested now.

“Allison is useless, as are the rest. You’re my best option.”

“You _need_ me,” Klaus says delighted.

Five wrinkles his nose. “No, I said you’re the best option out of a bunch of useless ones.”

“Sure, sure. So what—oh wait! If I’m doing this then I should get paid. What’s your offer, brother o’mine?”

“I won’t use your kneecaps as hockey pucks,” Five growl-offers.

“That’s not very incentivizing.” It is however disturbing.

“Fine. What would you like, Four?” Five asks.

Ben groans, “No, Five, don’t ask him that.”

Klaus ignores him, smiling. “Drugs.”

Five is silent, staring at Klaus. Ben is also staring at Klaus with his eyebrows raised. “Did you seriously just ask a 7-year old for drugs?” he asks in disbelief. Klaus would love to tell him to shut-up but Five is looking contemplative. Now Ben is looking at their little brother in disbelief as well. Klaus wonders if he actually _is_ going to get drugs from a 7-year old, he’d mostly been joking.

Five nods his head. “Tough shit, you’ll get 20 bucks after you do what I ask.”

“Wait, really?” Klaus asks as Ben releases a “what.”

“Go put actual clothes on.”

Klaus finds his best shirt and ignores Ben telling him it sucks. He doesn’t have taste, all he wears are dark hoodies and shit. Five also doesn’t have taste, Klaus reminds himself as the little gremlin sees his outfit and forces him into one of Dad’s suits instead. It doesn’t quite fit but Five seems satisfied.

They head out to wherever Five is taking them, Klaus with some pep in his step and Ben with curious hovering. They pass Grace on their way to the kitchen, and she chirps a “Good morning” that Klaus enthusiastically returns.

“What is this errand anyway?” Ben finally asks.

“I should probably ask that!” Klaus answers, earning a look from Five for seemingly speaking without a prompt. “What is it you need me for?”

“You’re going to pretend you’re my dad so I can get information,” Five says casually.

Ben shoots Klaus a wide-eyed look that he ignores in favor of rolling with the new development. “Wow, so we’re already getting into dubious stuff. Are you my biological son or adopted?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it does to me. My entire character could be based upon which it is, I—”

“Klaus,” Five says, with a mean smile. “Shut up.”

“Fine, I’ll make it up myself.”

They pass through the kitchen, Five going for the car keys.

“Uh, I can’t drive technically, my license was revoked.”

Five looks unsurprised. “Doesn’t matter.”

Which is how Klaus ends up in a car with Five sitting on his knees in the driver’s seat and using an umbrella to push the pedals. Klaus can only sit in the passenger seat and watch with morbid fascination, hand inching towards the handle on the door, while Ben makes distressed noises in his ear. It’s probably a miracle that they don’t get pulled over.

***

“You’ve already missed a session, Allison.”

Allison scrubs her hand against her forehead in frustration, leaning further into the wall. “It was my father’s funeral, I’m pretty sure that qualifies as extenuating circumstances, Patrick.”

“Yeah it does, but you didn’t notify your therapist properly. They’re going to record you not showing to the session,” Patrick sighs, static sounding through the handset. “Look, you’ve been…doing good and, despite everything, I do want Claire to see you. She needs her mom, Allison.”

“I know that!” Allison snaps, and then quickly reels back the anger. “I know that,” she says softer.

“Then why are you staying there?” He demands.

Allison bites her lip, “Patrick, it’s for my brother. He needs me right now and I have to be here for him.”

He goes quiet for several moments. “Is it Luther? Or…god is Klaus okay?” he asks. Allison furrows her brow, he sounds genuinely concerned. Abruptly Allison remembers that he’s met them before and listened in on her stories about growing up with them. It makes sense for him to be concerned.

“No, they’re…not fine really, but I didn’t mean them,” she pauses. “Do you remember when I told you about my brother Five?” Patrick grunts in confirmation. “He came back.”

“What?”

“Yesterday, he showed up at the Academy looking like…like Claire and then last night happened and—I can’t leave, he needs me.”

“He looks like Claire? Shouldn’t he be your age?” Patrick asks dubiously.

Allison laughs, “Patrick, I grew up in a superhero academy and fought the Eiffel Tower. Is it really so much of a stretch?”

“That’s…fair,” he admits. “Okay, do what you have to but call your therapist. Get this documented and tell him about the circumstances.”

Allison’s shoulders slump in relief. As much as she’s resented Patrick…it feels nice to have him on her side again. “I will. Tell Claire I love her.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

The line clicks. Allison breaths for a long moment before dialing her therapist and letting him know she’ll be gone for the foreseeable future. She opts to leave out the whole time-travel portal and attack from the night before.

The floor creaks down the hallway to her room. It’s Luther, who looks hesitant to approach. “Sorry, I thought I heard you out here, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“It’s fine, I got everything taken care of,” Allison says, pushing away from the phone.

“I’ve have to admit, I thought you’d be out of here already.”

“Yeah, me too, but plans have changed.”

Luther looks hopeful. “That’s…great! I was, uh, well you know dad’s monocle is still missing and I could really use your help.”

“Luther…”

“I know all of you don’t really care. But I can’t just forget, I owe it to Dad.”

“Luther, don’t go down this rabbit hole,” Allison advises. “His heart gave out. You have to accept that and move on, not obsess over it.” Luther looks hurt. Allison bets that if it wasn’t her speaking, he would have stormed off already. “This isn’t a mission.”

“It doesn’t add up.” Luther murmurs, sounding half desperate. “He told me—warned me to keep an eye out for threats, to be careful who I trust.”

“He’s always said that Luther. You’re just clinging to it because that’s the last thing he said to you.” He looks at her shocked and vulnerable and she wishes that he could let it go, to grieve normally.

“Besides,” she says, changing the subject, “there’s something else you need to know. Five and I were attacked last night.”

It’s almost comical how Luther’s eyes go from downtrodden to wide and incredulous. “What?”

“Short version is that they’re after Five and it turns out he’s not crazy, but he is apparently being hunted down.”

Luther’s whole body shifts, no longer unsure and sad, switching to mission mode. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to call a family meeting, but I had to take care of a few things,” she points at the phone. “I need to get everyone here though, they need to know that they might be in danger too.”

“Right, I can get Diego,” Luther offers, “I was, uh, planning on heading to his place anyway.”

Allison cocks her hip, eyebrow rising. “Were you going to investigate him for _murder_?” she asks.

Luther doesn’t meet her eyes, which is answer enough. She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Jeez, Luther.”

“I know, it’s crazy but I have to make sure.”

“ _Have to_?”

“Had to, or wanted to, you know what I mean!”

Allison relents, “Fine, just get him back here and try not to fight.”

“Sure,” Luther promises as he lumbers away.

Somehow Allison doubts he will manage that.

“Five?” Allison calls through his door. It’s weird to be standing there and expecting an answer. She hadn’t come to this area of the house for a long time. Her eyes drift to the next door, Ben’s old room. “Five, open up.” She tries. Still no answer.

The door isn’t locked.

Allison pushes it open, ready to urge her brother downstairs for a talk. The bed is empty. The whole room is in fact empty. Allison’s stomach drops.

“Five!” She hurries inside checking under the desk and behind the bed like he might just be playing hide and seek. She throws the wardrobe doors open and finds it only contains old uniforms.

There’s no sign of a struggle, so one part of her relaxes even as she remains tense. He must be downstairs already.

Allison _calmly_ walks to the ground floor in search of him. He’s not in the lounge or the dining room. The laundry room is empty as well. She tries the courtyard but the only thing out there are birds.

Allison very firmly forces down the panic and _calmly_ walks to the kitchen. Grace is already there, humming as she fries some eggs. Her head turns as Allison enters, hands still working on the food. “Allison, what has you running through the house this morning?”

“Mom, have you seen Five?”

“No dear, your brother left a long time ago, or, no that’s not right,” Grace’s smile dims, “He was here yesterday.”

Grace goes quiet, that same confusion as the day before resurfacing. Another thing to worry about. “Mom,” Allison urges, “Have you seen Five today?”

“Yes, I believe he went out with Klaus though.”

Allison grimaces, “How do you know?”

“Well,” Grace starts, sliding the eggs onto a plate and setting it on the table. “They came down here, dear. Though they didn’t have any breakfast before they left,” she tuts. “One of your Father’s cars is gone as well.”

“Klaus can’t drive,” Allison says uneasily.

“It’s okay, dear. I’m sure your brothers are just out bonding after such a long absence.”

But Five wouldn’t be just hanging out with Klaus, she thinks, recalling his determination the night before (and pushing down the annoyance at the words he said). He has priorities and the apocalypse to deal with—

“Oh,” Allison breathes. She knows exactly where her wayward brothers went.

Allison grabs a set of keys and runs to the alley parking lot. “Thanks Mom!” she tosses over her shoulder.

Five is so dead when she gets her hands on him.

She gets outside and has just enough time to note that it’s going to be a sunny day when tires screeching pulls her up short. A familiar car pulls into the alley and then Diego is throwing his car door open and looking…angry, like usual.

“Diego?” Allison asks as he stomps over to her.

“What the hell happened last night?” he demands.

“What?”

“I know you were at Griddy’s! The whole place is filled with bodies so start talking.”

Allison raises her hands, “Diego, calm down!”

Surprisingly, Diego does. He takes a few deep breaths before continuing, “You good?”

Allison blinks, surprised that he’d ask. “Yeah, I’m fine, it was just a scare really.”

“And Five?” he asks gruffly.

“He’s okay.”

“What happened?”

Allison wonders if she'll ever get to call that family meeting or if she's going to end up telling her each of her siblings the same story individually. “Those guys were hunting Five and he knew they were because he used to work for the same organization.”

Diego stares at her disbelieving.

“Diego. I watched Five cut open his arm and pull out a tracker. The story isn’t that crazy,” she says annoyed.

Diego scoffs, “Oh no, it’s crazy. But I guess I’m a little crazy too because it makes more sense than them robbing a donut shop. I mean the kit those guys had doesn’t really add up.”

“Well there’s more, but I can’t stand here telling you.”

“Why not?” Diego questions, sounding indignant.

“Five is gone, but I know where he is. I’ve gotta go get him.”

Diego takes a deep breath. “You said those guys were hunting him,” he clarifies, voice strained, “and now he’s just run off without someone to watch his back?”

“I’m pretty sure Klaus is with him actually.”

This of course doesn’t calm Diego down. “Get in the car. You can tell me the rest on the way.”

***

Meritech was a surprise destination for Klaus. Ben is just as confused by it. Inside there were people walking on crutches to prosthetic fittings and others sitting around waiting.

The receptionist finished with a client, her eyes landing on them and then bugging out. A strange reaction but not one Klaus was entirely unfamiliar with. She gestured for them to come closer.

Five led the way and Klaus sauntered after, letting him take the lead in whatever this was.

“ _You_ ,” the receptionist, Moni, says with accusation. Because, apparently, she already knows his brother.

“Yes. I’m back with my _father_ ,” Five disdains. “and I would like to see someone who can actually help me with this eye.”

Klaus scrunches his nose as Five pulls an eye out of his pocket, thankfully it isn’t real. Klaus looks at Ben, sitting on the desk, to make sure he is also seeing this. Ben shakes his head, returning to staring at Five.

“I’ve already told you young man—” Five absolutely bristles at the term “—I can’t just give you the person’s file without their consent, it would be a breach of confidentiality.”

Five opens his mouth, looking ready to argue with all four-foot-nothing of his body, when a throat clears and a doctor enters the conversation.

“Excuse me, is there something I could help you with?” he asks, eyes darting between the three visible participants of the conversation.

“Dr. Lance—”

“Hello sir!” Klaus quickly interjects. “Yes, absolutely you can help! See my son here needs help with an eyeball.” Klaus grabs Five’s shoulders, thrusting him away from Moni and towards the doctor. It’s like holding a plank of wood.

“I am trying to return this to it’s rightful owner,” Five drones, presenting the eyeball for the doctor to see.

“I see,” the doctor says, clearly not seeing. “Uh, Ms. Campbell I’ll assist these gentlemen in my office.”

Moni frowns at them, but says nothing more than a, “Of course, sir.”

Klaus slumps into one of the office chairs and lets Five do what he needs to.

What Five apparently needs to do aggressively demand the doctor…Grant?...that Grant give him some name for the eye. And Grant is refusing which is making Five hiss and spit words like an angered cat.

Klaus glances at Ben, leaned against a glass wall with his eyebrows creeping into his hairline.

Five slams his hands on the desk, patience completely gone. “Listen here asshole,” Five hisses. “Your pea-sized brain can’t even comprehend the shit I’ve seen. It took me everything to get here and I’m not about to let you get in my way because of a little thing called confidentiality. So, get me the file before I put your head through the damn wall.”

“Oh shit,” Ben whispers, speaking Klaus’s thoughts.

“Sir, get a handle on your son or I’m calling security,” Grant tells Klaus, ignoring Five now.

“He means you Klaus!” Ben hisses.

“Right!” Klaus jumps from his chair with a smile. “Let’s all just calm down here. Now Grant—” “It’s Lance.” “—my _son_ here just really wants to help some, poor unfortunate soul—” he winks at Ben who does not seem impressed by the word choice “—reunite with their eye. A noble cause if there ever was one, right?”

“As I’ve been _telling_ your son, we do not give out patient files as it is a severe breach of their privacy and we would need consent from said patient to do so.”

Klaus grabs Five’s stiff shoulder to keep him from launching into another argument. “Surely, you could make an exception. Perhaps we could come to an agreement, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, I think he knows,” Ben comments from his spot.

Grant leans back in his chair, studying Klaus and Five with a businessman’s eye. Whatever he sees must not be particularly convincing. It’s probably the suit.

Grant grabs his phone. “I’m calling security.”

At this point there’s not a whole lot more to be done except lean into crazy territory.

Klaus eyes the snow-globe on the desk.

“Don’t you dare,” Ben demands.

“Not a lot of options here,” Klaus snips back.

Grant gives him a weird look.

Klaus is gearing up to smash that snow-globe over his head when the small shoulder under his hand disappears in a flash of blue. Grant squawks at the sudden disappearance and reappearance of Five right next to him, nearly dropping the handset.

Five is by no means capable of looming, he’s so short Klaus wouldn’t be able to lean on him without bending down, yet, he’s pulling it off remarkably well through sheer tenacity. He presses down on the switch, ending Grant’s attempt to call security.

Five smiles unpleasantly at Lance. “I’m done being nice. Get me that file, last chance.”

“Is that a knife?” Klaus asks the room at large. “Where did he get a knife?” Ben asks back.

Grant is definitely looking shaken by the 7-year old wielding a knife. Klaus is wondering if he should step in or not because this is all taking a turn and he is not high enough for this. And somehow no one has noticed the holdup happening, despite the glass walls of the office.

“You’re crazy,” Lance says.

Five’s eye twitches. “You have no idea,” he replies.

They end up shuffling to a row of filing cabinets. Klaus leans against it next to Grant while Five stands watch. Grant shuffles through papers, tossing wary looks at Five. He finally seems to find what he’s looking for frowning in confusion.

“That it?” Five asks.

“Yeah, but it’s strange. That eye hasn’t been bought by a patient, it hasn’t even been manufactured yet.”

“What,” Five snarls, grabbing the file from Lance’s hands.

The doctor retracts his hands like he’s afraid Five will bite him. Honestly, at this point Klaus wouldn’t be surprised if his brother did.

Five flips through the file with a manic gleam in his eyes, it’s actually starting to concern Klaus. Or rather, the concern has been steadily rising since he woke up. At first it was just amusing to watch, but Klaus is starting to feel like he’s watching Five lose it.

“This can’t be it,” Five whispers.

Grant is quick to assure Five, most likely fearing retaliation. “Th-that’s it, that’s the whole file. I don’t know where you got that eye, but it shouldn’t even exist.”

“That’s pretty interesting.” Ben comments from on top of a filing cabinet. Klaus is inclined to agree with him. An eye that doesn’t exist points to Five having actually gone to the future and acquiring it there.

Five looks up from the file and there’s something vulnerable there, he looks lost. Klaus makes a move to comfort him, a pat on the back or a squeeze of the shoulder, but Five snaps out of it before he can make contact. The file is snapped shut and shoved against Grant’s chest, who has to scramble to grab it when Five lets go. “We’re leaving,” Five announces, already moving.

Klaus swans after his little brother, tossing a jaunty wave back at the good doctor. The receptionist eyes them suspiciously as they pass and Klaus shoots her a smile but doesn’t slow. Who knows when security will be called after the stunt Five just pulled.

Once they’re outside Klaus can’t help it. He starts laughing. That whole situation had been so surreal to him. “Man, that was wild, and seriously concerning.”

“What that was,” Five grits, “was completely useless.”

Ben tuts, walking to stand next to Five which just shows that literally everyone is taller than their brother. “Nah, I’m agreeing with you, Klaus. And adding interesting to the list.”

Klaus nods along. “So, Five, I’ve gotta ask. What is up with the whole eye thing?”

“At some point during this week someone loses an eye, they’re the cause of the apocalypse,” Five looks down. “This was my best lead for tracking them down and preventing that from happening.”

Wow. Okay. Klaus looks at Ben, hoping for a little guidance. Ben is looking back, seemingly just as at a loss. That’s out then. “So, about that 20 bucks…” Klaus starts, which does break whatever tension had settled around them. It also gets Five to stomp away from him to sit on the building steps.

“Smooth, Klaus.” Ben sighs. “He’s working through something right now so maybe try to have tact.”

“Fine, fine.” Klaus twirls around to Five. His brother looks so small, huddled on the steps with his hands running through his hair. “C’mon, short-stack. Talk to your favorite brother.” He says plopping down next to Five.

Five grunts, hands dropping. “What’s there to say. The apocalypse is coming, I just lost my best lead, and my family is useless.”

He sure likes to throw that word around. Klaus would like to point out that he just helped Five out. “I mean, have you actually talked to anyone yet? You just ran off yesterday.”

Five lets out a mirthless chuckle. “I told someone. Why do you think I’m here with you instead?”

“Allison?” Klaus guesses. Five doesn’t answer, looking at the street instead. “Jeez, what happened? Was she a nonbeliever?”

Five shakes his head. “She believed me. Things got heated though.”

“You got into a fight with Allison your first day back? Damn, how’d you mange that?” Klaus asks, genuinely curious. It had seemed like some of Allison’s motherly instincts had activated when Five showed up.

Five rubs his eyes. “I said some shit. Then she said some shit.”

It’s so vague that Klaus wants to shake him. Would it kill Five to provide more details to things? “You really suck at communication,” Klaus says, referring to both the fight and the current conversation.

“I can’t—I don’t know how…” Five starts, growling in frustration at whatever he wants to say. He runs both his hands down his face, like he’s scrubbing away the emotions, when he’s done his face is that odd neutral expression that looks weird on a kid. “It doesn’t matter,” he finishes.

It does, Klaus thinks. Because Five is struggling to even properly communicate in a casual conversation. “Sure it does. I mean don’t feel too bad because I’m pretty sure we all suck at it, even if you’re the worst offender. Maybe…I mean Dad was probably even worse than you and he didn’t have the excuse of disappear—”

“Klaus—” Ben’s warning comes too late.

Five stands abruptly. “Shut up, Klaus,” he hisses.

Klaus tries to backtrack. “Whoa, okay. I didn’t mean—”

“Stop! Just, shut up,” Five says, voice leveling. He digs his hand into his pocket and throws the keys to the car at Klaus. “I’m leaving, do whatever you want.”

“Wait!” Klaus cries but it’s too late. Five disappears in a flash of blue before Klaus can even stand.

“Man, you suck at communication,” Ben says sarcastically.

“Really, Ben? Didn’t hear you trying to help.”

“The conversation seemed okay until the end there.”

Klaus pouts. “Old man didn’t even give me my 20 bucks.” And he just ran off without so much as a thank you or location to be found later.

“Old man, huh?”

Klaus looks at Ben then, whose face is blank. “Oh, don’t even. There’s no way he’s 7.”

Ben looks sort of proud now. “True. And he did give you a car.”

“I can’t even drive it though. Or really, I shouldn’t.”

“…you could look for him?”

“He’s probably like in the next county or I don’t know, threatening some other innocent bystanders.”

“Yeah, that was some pretty weird stuff,” Ben says slowly, cautiously.

Klaus raises a brow, “Let your words flow, Benny.”

“Well, he’s definitely not a little kid. And that doctor said the eye doesn’t exist which really supports the whole future thing,” Ben pauses. “If those things are true then do you think the apocalypse is really going to happen?”

“Shit man, I don’t know,” Klaus huffs. “Dad was always using that to get us to do chores and train harder and I didn’t believe it then. But like, I guess it’s possible.”

“Five believes it.”

“Five believed dad was an alien,” Klaus reminds Ben, just to be contrary.

Ben shakes his head, “The way things are adding up though…”

“Yeah,” Klaus sighs, really wishing he was high so he could escape the thought of an approaching apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone is learning things! Yay for them~  
> I don't know I'm a little iffy on some parts of this chapter but, eeeeeeh, ya'know?


	4. Gremlin Boy Missing, If Found Please Contact Allison Hargreeves

The front of the building where you just committed a crime is often a very conspicuous location to loiter. With this in mind, Klaus slinks away from the entrance.

“Where are you going now?” Ben asks, ever questioning.

“I don’t know, I’m torn between the taco truck on 11th or the alley on 7th. Of course, I don’t have any cash…so that could be a problem.”

“Klaus, you should look for Five.”

“It’s like I already said Benjamin, Five could be anywhere by now. I mean how do you track a teleporter without any clues?”

Ben looks unhappy with that statement but offers no counter argument so Klaus considers the matter closed for the time being.

“Klaus!” a loud, angry voice yells. And a familiar one.

“Diego!” Klaus spins in the direction it came from. Diego is power walking Klaus’s way with Allison striding along next to him. “Am I in trouble?” Klaus asks when they stop.

Diego opens his mouth, but Allison beats him to it. “Where is Five?” she questions, eyes darting around like she’ll see him hiding in the bushes or something.

“Don’t care to see me?”

“Klaus, be serious,” Diego warns.

“You just missed him actually.”

Klaus expects Diego to get angrier, but it’s Allison who starts cursing. “Am I missing something? Why do you guys need to find Five so badly?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Diego says sounding amused. “Five and Allison were in a shootout last night. Turns out there’s people who’re after Five.”

Klaus has to wonder if this is real. “Wait, what?” Ben asks alarmed. If Ben is asking then it has to be real.

Allison rejoins the conversation. “Five’s in danger and I specifically told him to hold tight till morning so I could get us all together and we could figure out a solution.”

Klaus frowns. “Okay, wait. All Five mentioned about last night was that he got into a fight with you. When the hell was there a shootout?!”

Diego looks at Allison with raised eyebrows, clearly that was news to him. “It was before that,” she says shortly.

“Hold up, why were you two fighting?” Diego hounds.

Klaus almost feels bad for mentioning the fight in the first place because Allison is looking unhappy, but on the other hand he just wants to know what it was all about.

“When I was patching him up—" news to Klaus, he hadn’t seen any obvious injuries, except some skinned knees “—he got mad and said some inappropriate things to me and then I got mad and snapped back at him.”

“Wow. She literally left out as much as possible,” Ben huffs, hands shoved into his jacket pockets now.

“Yeah.” Klaus says in answer to both his siblings. “That still answers, like, nothing.”

Allison gives him a withering look. “He wanted me to use my rumors. When I told him I don’t do that anymore he thought I was joking and then got pissed when I wasn’t.”

Oh, well that explained some things.

Diego snaps his fingers, the effect ruined by his gloves, it does work in grabbing their attention. “Hold on. Who did he want you to rumor?”

Allison points at the Meritech building. “Someone in there. He needs information so that he can—”

“Prevent the apocalypse,” Klaus supplies.

Both his siblings turn to him.

“Yeah, don’t worry Allison, Five won’t bother you with that anymore, cause we just got the info and apparently it leads nowhere.”

“Nowhere at all, huh,” Diego hums with a flat look at Allison.

She doesn’t look at their brother, eyes focused on Klaus. “There was nothing of interest from the info?”

“Well, it was interesting, but not informative for Five I guess.” He shrugs.

“Klaus, elaborate.”

“Okay, so, apparently the eye shouldn’t even exist yet which _I_ found very interesting, but it only seemed to piss our brother off.” More than piss off, it had completely thrown him.

Diego’s eyebrows shoot up, his eyes darting to their sister now. Concern flashes on Allison’s face. “Where is he now?”

“Well, he didn’t really tell me. Got his shorts in a twist over something and disappeared.”

“Or maybe it was how you said he was just barely better than Dad,” Ben inserts.

Klaus hisses at him in reprimand, holding up the keys in his other hand. “He left me the car at least.”

“Did you drive?!” Diego yells.

Klaus clucks his tongue. “Of course not. Five drove.”

Allison’s gaze locks on him with laser focus. “You let our physically 7-year old brother drive here!”

Klaus feels the need to defend himself from such accusations. “I didn’t know the plan till I got in the car! And for the record he’s pretty good, if I needed a getaway driver I would pick him.”

“Shouldn’t they be focused on finding Five now,” Ben ponders.

That’s a good point. “We should focus on more important matters, like Five! Poor, little, defenseless…no wait, he has a knife…little Five who’s walking around the city alone.”

“You’re right,” Allison admits, rubbing her face. She looks tired suddenly.

“…Did you say he has a knife?” Diego asks, like that’s supposed to be weird to the guy that wears knives like they’re going out of style. Ignoring that they were never in style, anyway.

“Uh, yeah. He almost used it on this doctor. It was actually pretty intimidating. Our brother definitely qualifies as one of those creepy horror movie children.”

“Unsurprising,” Allison sighs.

Diego shakes his head. “So, just to be clear, we have no idea where Five is and there’re still people after him, right?”

Allison ignores Diego, snatching the keys from Klaus’s hand. “You two go back to the Academy, I’ll meet you there.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Diego says, stepping into her path. “Where are you going?”

Annoyance clouds Allison’s face. “What’s up with you?”

“Did you miss the part where those guys attacked you too last night?” he says, jerking his thumb at her.

“No, I’m just going to check Vanya’s, I mean maybe Five went to her for help or a shoulder to cry on.”

Klaus scrunches his face at the image, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Five cry.

Diego looks skeptical still.

“If I’m not back in two hours then come looking, but I don’t think I’m a target unless I’m with Five.”

“Fine,” Diego concedes, not looking happy in the slightest.

“Car’s over by that tree,” Klaus points, “Careful, Five jumped the curb trying to park.”

***

The anger at Klaus disintegrates along with the tear in space that Five makes. It was childish to run off like that because his brother compared him to Reginald Hargreeves. Hadn’t he just been trying (and failing) to say that he has trouble communicating with people now? Did Klaus really need to bring the old man into it?

That’s irrelevant anyway.

Five’s one lead is bupkis.

That’s…that’s not good at all. It’s a wrench in his plan that Five didn’t see coming. He needs to…figure something new out.

The park seems like as good a place as any to clear his head and think, with the added bonus of no siblings to disturb him.

Five marvels at the large swaths of grass and the leafy trees. Seeing healthy green plants is still a novelty. The people playing with their dogs is just as fascinating to him.

One of them lopes up to him. Five has never studied dog breeds, so he can’t say what kind it is, only that it has ears that rise and flop at the ends and its coat is a fluffy mix of white-tan-black. It sticks its twitching nose towards him, icy blue eyes looking at him curiously.

Five’s never been so close to a dog.

Slowly he stretches his hand out for it to sniff. It takes this as an invitation to press its snout right up against his palm. Cold and wet. Its tongue follows, leaving a trail of warm saliva behind. Five scrunches his nose, unsure if the feeling is pleasant or not. Another lick and his lips twitch up involuntarily.

“Lila, come here!” a woman calls.

The dog snaps to attention, racing towards her owner. Five watches it run away wistfully. It really was a fluffy dog.

Five wipes his palm against his shorts, making his way to the playground where he can blend in with the age group. He finds an unoccupied bench, close enough that he shouldn’t be accosted by concerned adults, and watches as children screech and run around. He lets the noise wash over him, lets his mind flip through possibilities.

He’s lost a day to solve the apocalypse problem. That’s a day for the Commission to organize and send someone competent after him. As if he didn’t already have enough problems.

A girl and boy run by playing a game of tag, screaming silently.

Five swipes at a speck of fluff that drifts towards his face with annoyance. Another floats past. Five furrows his brow looking up. Gray flurries fall from the sky, floating on a nonexistent breeze. Five stares wide eyed as they multiply, a cloud of smoke and ash releasing wisps of crisped debris down on the world. They layer on him, soft brushes against his skin smearing grime as they settle. He lets his eyes drop back to the playground, startling at the sight of twisted and burned out metal. Not a kid to be seen. Piles of blackened bones twisted on the ground, all of them small.

Five chokes, nails digging into his palms.

His mind is playing tricks, he knows that, he left this burned out world in the future. He left as an old man, he’s not there, he’s not there, he’s not th—

The smell roils over him. Billions of burned corpses, skin and muscles cooked off the bones.

He fights down a gag, slapping a hand over his nose and mouth in the hopes of smothering the smell and preventing the loss of the precious little food in his stomach, he can’t afford wasted nutrients. He should be used to the smell, it’s been years since it affected him so much, why is he reacting so strongly now—

“Are you okay?” a timid voice asks.

His eyes snap open, when had they closed?

“What?” Five asks, turning to look at the little girl talking to him.

She has wild hair, brown curls tangled together, light brown skin and bushy eyebrows. “You look sick,” she says, worried.

The playground is filled with living, breathing children again, their joyful shouts like needles in his ears.

Five still has his hand over his mouth and nose. Slowly he lowers it, cautiously letting himself smell the clear air. It smells like freshly cut grass. “I’m fine,” Five answers hoarsely.

The girl doesn’t look convinced, sliding onto the bench next to him. “My name’s Emmy,” she introduces, holding out a hand.

For a moment all Five can see is a neatly manicured hand, offering an impossible choice, the nails like claws waiting for its prey to fall into the trap.

He shoves hard against the memory.

He doesn’t shake her hand, pointing at himself instead. “Five.”

The hand drops. “That’s a number,” Emmy says confused.

“I like numbers.”

Her bushy brows furrow as she contemplates the logic. She nods after several moments. “Why are you alone, Five? You could come play.”

“I’m not a child,” Five clarifies, “I’m an adult, therefore I don’t _play_.”

Emmy looks at him without understanding. “I think adults like to have fun too, and playing on the playground is fun. The swings are the best,” she declares.

Five shakes his head, “I just needed to clear my head.”

“Oh,” she bites her lips, leaning in. “Adult problems?” she whispers.

“That’s one way to put it.”

“Is that why you got sick?” she asks. Five frowns, but nods his head at the easy explanation. “Sometimes my Dad, gets sick too. He says that talking to someone helps though, so maybe you should do that.”

Five isn’t sure why he’s still having this conversation. “What if I’m not good at talking?” he asks curious.

Emmy hums, “I think that means you just need to practice, like how I had to practice dance.” She throws her arms out, shaking her hands. Five follows the motion, raising an eyebrow. “They’re jazz hands,” she pouts.

“Right.”

Emmy lets her hands drop, frowning at him. “Maybe you just need to talk with someone you know? Sometimes my Dad talks with my Mom too.”

“That’s,” he pauses, thinking about the folded address in his pocket, “not a bad idea.”

Emmy perks up at the praise.

Five hops down from the bench, pausing before he leaves. “This has been helpful,” he nods. And then he pulls space apart and disappears into the blue.

Emmy sits with her mouth open, looking at where she just saw the strange boy/man disappear.

***

Luther’s head drops from the cabinet he’s leaned against, startling him awake.

He swipes at his face, embarrassed at having fallen asleep despite the empty boiler room. It looks like Diego still hadn’t come back.

It was interesting to see how his most combative sibling was living. The boiler room wasn’t exactly high-end living, it was hot and cluttered, but it felt…lived in. Something Luther felt was sorely absent back home.

Luther shifts out of his slouch. He’s still alone, no sign of Diego. It was probably just as well that he wasn’t around. Luther wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say to his brother besides ‘sorry’ and ‘why didn’t you say you had an alibi?’. Neither of which would go over well (not that anything ever went over well). The poster lay on the floor, where his limp fingers had dropped it.

Guilt weighs on Luther. He hadn’t really believed any of his siblings could’ve killed their father. But the amount of relief he felt at finding definitive proof that Diego hadn’t contradicted that thought. Even if Luther had thought he wasn’t suspicious of them, it turns out a part of him had been, and they could tell. He owed them an apology. Perhaps Reginald Hargreeves really had been done in by heart failure. Even if it was hard to believe.

Luther shakes his head, standing up. That would have to wait.

He wanders back into the gym, watching a pair of boxers in the ring before locating the old man who’d greeted him before, stood outside the ring.

“Excuse me,” Luther calls.

The man turns from the match. “Eh, change your mind on fighting?” he asks, a spark of interest in his eye.

“No, I was wondering if Diego had come through yet?”

The man huffs, “Haven’t seen him. What’s it to ya anyway? You two buddies or something?”

They were the furthest thing. “He’s my brother actually, I’m just trying to locate him.”

“No shit,” the old man chuckles. A phone ringing draws his attention away, momentary amusement replaced with annoyance. “I have to get that.”

Luther steps aside, looking back to the ring and at the two women boxing inside. They bounce on their feet, arms raised in preparation. Luther admires their boxing forms, the way they guard before springing forward with a quick jab. Behind him the old man answers the phone with a grumpy greeting.

“He’s not here! I’m not his messenger…hold on!” The man yells into the phone. “Hey, Diego’s brother! Someone on the phone for you!”

Luther looks at the man surprised. The old man impatiently jiggles the phone, prompting Luther over.

“Uh, hello,” he says unsure into the handset.

“This isn’t Diego,” a woman sighs on the other end.

“No, I’m his brother,” Luther supplies.

There’s an interested pause, “Which one?”

“Luther.”

“Damn,” the woman says. “I’m Detective Patch, trying to get in contact with Diego.”

“Did he, do something?” Luther asks confused.

“No, I need to talk to him about a case. You know where I could find him?”

“I haven’t seen him today.”

“What about his other siblings, Allison and Five?” she asks.

Luther pauses, surprised. “I saw Allison earlier but I don’t know where they are now.”

The detective curses quietly. “Alright, Luther, I need you to locate your siblings and get them somewhere safe. Then I need you to tell Diego to call me.”

“Uh, okay.”

“Great, thank you for your cooperation.” The line clicks dead.

Luther stares at the handset for a long moment, then gently settles it back on the cradle. That call was…concerning to say the least.

Luther walks over to the old man again, “If you see Diego please tell him to come to the Academy as soon as possible.”

“I’m not your messenger,” the man grunts, “I’ll pass it along though.”

***

Allison hustles up Vanya’s apartment stairs, anxious energy spurring her to take the steps two at a time. It’s while she turns the corner to the second floor’s landing that she runs into the man. The two of them wobble on the top step, gravity threatening to pull them down. Allison grabs the man’s jacket firmly, pulling him away from the possible broken neck and onto the solidity of the second floor.

“I’m so sorry,” Allison says, releasing him.

“No, no it’s fin—” the man cuts off once his eyes land on her face.

Shit. He recognizes her. Allison smiles as charmingly as she can and backs towards Vanya’s apartment at the same time. “Sorry for that, I’m in a rush though.” With that she turns hurrying down the hall, feeling the man’s gaze on her back as she goes. She looks back once she’s at Vanya’s door, relieved to see the man gone.

The door swings open after three knocks. Vanya is dressed in a large shirt with her hair in a bun, staring at Allison clearly surprised. “Allison?”

“Hey sis, can I come in?”

Vanya blinks, stepping aside. “Uh, sure.”

Allison slips inside, eyes scanning the room quickly. It’s cozy and simple, the kitchen, dining, and living room all wrapped into one. Unfortunately, there are no idiot brothers in sight.

“Why are you here? Not that I, I mean—it’s good to see you, I’m just surprised,” Vanya mumbles.

“Yeah, I wanted my first visit to be more of a social call than this,” Allison says, apology in her tone. “Have you seen Five?”

“I saw him this morning,” Vanya answers.

Allison feels her heart sink. “But not since.”

Anxiety bleeds through Vanya’s face. “No. What’s going on?”

“Five is missing,” Vanya sucks in a breath at Allison’s words. “He was with Klaus not that long ago, but then he ditched him. I thought he might have come here.”

Vanya reaches a shaky hand into her pocket, grabbing her pill bottle and popping it open. Allison watches this ritual quietly. Vanya breaths after taking a pill, looking up. “Five said he was going to rest today, it sounded like he just wanted to settle in at the house.”

Allison groans, “That little shit.”

“Why would he say that?” Vanya asks quietly.

Allison looks at her sister, who is staring at the floor. “Vanya, I—we should talk. There’s some things I needed to tell the family that may, well, I don’t know if it would explain everything, but it might help clear up what he said to you.”

Vanya’s head snaps up, “A family meeting?”

“Yeah, I was going to call everyone earlier but then Five disappeared and threw that all off.”

Vanya nods, her face seeming to lighten a bit. “Okay, I’ll get my jacket.”

***

There’s chatter when Luther gets back to the Academy.

He stops in the door confused at the sound. The Academy was silent when he lived there before. It’s Diego and Klaus he realizes, walking to the lounge, where all their meetings seem to take place nowadays.

“Klaus, think! Did he say anything before he left, or maybe in the office?” Diego demands.

Klaus hums loudly. “Well, he threatened that doctor and had beef with the receptionist, but if you’re asking if he told me where he was going then the answer is still no. You’ve asked like ten times already.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Luther asks, feeling concerned.

Both his brothers turn to him, Klaus with a bouncy wave and Diego with crossed arms.

“Don’t you knock?” Diego sneers.

Luther glares at him, “I live here, and this is the lounge. Why would I knock at the lounge?”

Diego opens his mouth but Klaus interrupts with a loud clap.

“SO,” Klaus smiles, ”where have you been Luther? I didn’t know you could leave the house. Or I guess you can because how else would you go to the moon.” He chuckles, eyes darting around the room.

“Uh, I was looking for you actually,” Luther says to Diego.

“You were?” Diego asks suspicious.

“I went to your…boiler room.” Luther cringes.

“You went to my place,” Diego deadpans. “Why would—were you investigating me?”

Klaus gasps, hands clapping his cheeks, eyes darting between them. Luther ignores him.

“No, no, I wasn’t—I mean I did find out you had an alibi, but that’s not why I was there.”

Diego jabs his finger at Luther. “You couldn’t take my word for it! You really thought I murdered him!”

“You did hate the man, Diego-dear,” Klaus chimes in. Diego looks at him incredulous. “What? I don’t think you did it, I’m just saying…”

“Yeah I hated him! But so did everyone else except for ape-man over here.”

Luther can feel his cheeks heat up at the name. Diego doesn’t know, and yet he still manages to come up with accurate insults. He doesn’t address the hate, he knows his siblings didn’t have the same relationship with their father. “Why didn’t you tell me you were fighting that night?”

“I don’t have to defend myself to you,” Diego retorts.

“Okay, okay wait,” Klaus holds his hands up. “Why were you at Diego’s lovely little boiler room?”

Diego’s glare shifts from Luther to Klaus.

“Allison wanted to have a family meeting. Last night—”

“Her and Five were in a shootout, yeah we know already.”

“What? How?”

Klaus drapes himself on the couch. “Well Five—”

“Allison told me,” Diego cuts Klaus off from what would probably turn into a convoluted story.

“Is she here then?”

“Nope, she went to Vanya’s looking for Five after our brother ditched Klaus.”

“Looking?”

“Oh, yeah. Five disappeared with Klaus this morning and Allison had me go with her to get him. Except he wasn’t with the air head.”

“They’re out there right now?!”

“Chill, I’m only supposed to worry at the two hour mark. Allison will get Five and then we can all yell at him later.”

“No, no. Diego there was this detective—”

Diego perks up, “Patch?”

“—Yes, she called for you and said to get Five and Allison somewhere safe.”

“That doesn’t sound good.” Klaus mutters from his spot.

“I should call her back,” Diego murmurs, looking pensive. “I’m going to just, go do that now,” he says distracted. Diego moves to leave when steps echo from the stairs leading to the kitchen.

Allison emerges with Vanya trailing behind her, looking startled at the sight of them.

“I can’t help but notice there are no goblin children with you,” Klaus observes.

“No Five?” Diego asks, voice strained.

Allison shakes her head, “No.”

“And you brought her why?” Diego asks pointedly.

Vanya flinches.

“Diego,” Allison snaps, “she’s family.”

“Not according to her book,” he drawls.

Vanya’s looking like she wants to disappear.

Luther isn’t sure what to say, he doesn’t like Diego going after Vanya but he’d be lying if he said her book hadn’t hurt. Klaus is silent as well, though it seems he’s more absorbed in the glaring match between Diego and Allison, his face more serious than when it’d been Luther that Diego was having a stand-off with.

“Do you really think that matters right now?” Allison demands. “Seriously?” she adds when he doesn’t look contrite. “Five is being hunted and you’re going to jump straight to pushing away someone else in the family.”

“Five’s what?” Vanya asks, preventing Diego from arguing back.

Allison turns to her, “I—we should sit down.”

They sit and Allison tells them everything that happened the night before. Diego nods along like he already knows and Klaus only gasps in surprise at certain parts. Vanya looks as shell shocked as Luther feels, though he at least knew about the shootout.

The apocalypse is coming and there’s an organization that wants it to happen. An organization of assassins that Five had been a part of, before he came home and broke whatever contract he had with them.

Growing up their father had always warned them of an approaching apocalypse. Now he’s dead and there are assassins hunting Luther’s brother because he is trying to stop it from happening. It all lines up and paints a pretty clear picture. None of the others mention it, but they hadn’t believed Reginald was murdered. Luther had been ready to let it go as well, but now that suspicion seems to have true merit. He'll keep it to himself for the moment, they need to find Five and then Luther can look into it.

“Yeah, he mentioned the apocalypse earlier,” Klaus says, leg bouncing a rapid beat. He’s looking twitchy, Luther notes with a mix of sadness and disappointment. No doubt he’ll go looking for a fix soon.

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Vanya asks quietly, more to herself than anyone.

Luther looks at her, “What do you mean?”

Vanya looks up, startled at the attention of all her siblings. “I-I came by this morning and talked to Five. He didn’t say anything about what happened…” she trails off eyes distant, “Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

Diego scoffs, and Luther tenses at the noise. “Maybe he didn’t trust you not to write it for the whole world to see.”

The room is silent after the jab, like all the air has been sucked out and they’re in the vacuum of space.

“Diego,” Allison starts, voice low and angry.

In true Diego fashion, he meets her glare head on. “Spare me the lecture. It’s not like it didn’t already happen before. All of you just want to pretend it’s water under the bridge and nothing happened.”

“You don’t speak for us,” Allison rebukes.

“No, you don’t speak for yourselves,” Diego retorts. “I’m going to call Patch.” He storms out, leaving the rest of them in the stifling atmosphere.

Luther looks at Vanya, curled in on herself. He remembers reading the book. He hadn’t been angry really. Shocked, disappointed, and sad for sure. He had a different experience growing up, he was close with their father. Loved him and respected him, did _everything_ he asked. The rest of his siblings seemed to lack that, all of them had a different version of growing up, all of them negative. (Sometimes Luther wondered, at night when he was alone in the mansion, when he was alone on the moon, if there was truth in how they saw things).

He isn’t angry like Diego, but there are things he wishes she hadn’t put out for everyone to read.

“Vanya,” Allison says.

Vanya shakes out of her curled position. “I’m going to get some air,” she says, practically bolting from the room.

Klaus stands up with a stretch, “Whelp, I think I’ll just go out for a bit, y’know. Look around and what not.” He looks to his side and hisses at the air.

Luther is unimpressed, as is Allison. Neither of them stop him from leaving, too used to the way Klaus is by now.

“What now?” Luther asks.

Allison sinks down onto the couch again rubbing her face, “We wait I guess.” She sounds wholly unsatisfied with the idea and Luther finds that he is too.

*

“Klaus. Klaus!” Ben yells, following doggedly on his brother’s heels. He is of course ignored. Ben swiftly appears in front of Klaus which at least makes him pause.

“Oh, Ben, didn’t notice you there,” Klaus says with a smile.

“Where the hell are you going?” he demands, ignoring the joke.

“Ben, Benny, is that a serious question?”

“Are you actually going out for drugs after that whole discussion the family just had?” Ben asks disbelievingly.

“Of course I am! Did you hear that conversation? Assassins, time-travel, an apocalypse, how can anyone not want drugs after that?” Klaus breezes by Ben, “Besides, what use would I be to them?”

There’s that self-ridicule rearing its massive head. “Klaus, if you would just—”

“Save the proselytizing, Ben.” Klaus says, “I’m not going to get sober so save your breath.”

“You’re not useless,” Ben persists.

Klaus lays his hands across his heart. “That’s so sweet,” he mocks.

Being brushed off is normal between them, it doesn’t mean that Klaus’s flippant attitude doesn’t make Ben angry. “I care about you, asshole. But whatever, do what you always do when life gets hard,” Ben jabs.

Klaus whirls around looking uncharacteristically furious, “What would you know about life, Ben.”

Klaus’s face pales at his own words.

That hurts, Ben supposes. But he’s spent over a decade listening to his brother spout shit, from the hurtful to the bizarre, now isn’t the time to get overly offended. Ben raises an eyebrow. “Ouch, low blow,” he deadpans.

It’s an olive branch.

Klaus relaxes slightly. “Look, I just need something to tide me over for a bit. Nothing much,” he wheedles.

Nothing much always turns into more. Ben doesn’t say so, keeping the disappointment out of his voice, “Sure.”

Ben trails behind his brother, as they leave the academy, passing Diego stomping down the hall.

“Any luck with your detective?” Klaus asks as an afterthought, not even slowing down.

“No,” Diego grumbles, turning towards the kitchen without another word.

“He’s always in such a mood,” Klaus comments as they make it outside.

*

Vanya doesn’t have a room in the academy anymore, not since Klaus did renovations.

It takes her walking up the stairs to stand in front of what used to be her room to remember that. She doesn’t have a private space of her own to retreat to, to get away from the accusations. She bites her lip, peeking inside the messy room. There’s bottles and clothes strewn about, the old brick wall her bed was against is written all over.

There’s not a trace that she was ever there.

Vanya pulls out her pills and dry swallows one.

There’s nowhere to go in this hallway unless she wants to linger and risk running into one of the others. Which she doesn’t.

There is another place that used to offer her some comfort.

Vanya finds herself drawn to the other wing of bedrooms, tracing her fingers along the green walls as she ascends the stairs. There were many days where she would come to Five’s room to relax and forget the slights of the day. After he disappeared Ben’s room was her new retreat, her quiet brother allowing her to hang around him while he read or to whisper to each other.

Going into Ben’s room is impossible, like committing sacrilege. But Five is alive, he’s back.

Vanya feels no guilt stepping foot inside his room. It’s like a time capsule inside.

The walls are green in here too, like a chalkboard almost. Random posters dot the walls. Vanya remembers staring at them with quiet envy as Five taped them up. She’d stared at the rockem sockem robot poster and asked him why he wanted that on his wall. _To break up the monotony_ , he’d shrugged. From what she could tell he hadn’t really cared what was on them so long as he got to hang them up. The poster is still vibrant despite the years.

Vanya heads to the desk, a toy train upon its center. Five used to play with it when he was, well, 5. He’d let Vanya push it around the floor too, telling her about engines and train robberies and demonstrating what a train whistle should sound like as well as he could. The sound had made her ears ring.

She runs her hand over the toy fondly, eyes drifting to the chair. The suit Five appeared in is thrown over it and Vanya finds herself running her fingers along the fabric. Why hadn’t she believed him when he came to her that first day? He was wearing a big suit, it should’ve been obvious.

The only consolation she finds is that she wasn’t the only sibling to not believe him immediately. It doesn’t make her feel much better to be grouped with them when she was closest to their disappeared brother. It doesn’t make her feel better to know that she was the last to know what happened the night before.

She’d seen him that morning and he hadn’t said a word about it. He lied to her face about what he would be doing.

She shakes her head. He’d tried to talk to her though, she reasons.

 _He doesn’t trust you_ , another part of her proclaims, agreeing with Diego.

Vanya’s hands clench in the suit jacket, pulling it off the chair. It’s…heavier than it should be. She stares down at it, eyes drifting to the right pocket where the weight seems to be.

It’s an invasion of privacy, she knows. But her hand reaches in and pulls out a book anyway. She stares at the familiar cover, its faded and worn but clearly her book.

He read it, she thinks numbly. He told her he did, and she didn’t believe him then either.

Her hand shakes as she stuffs the book back into the pocket, letting the jacket fall back onto the chair.

Her chest aches with a mix of emotion she can’t decipher. It must be anxiety, she decides reaching for her pills. She needs a stronger dose and then she needs to get out of the room.

The bottle rattles loudly in the quiet, making her wince. Another pill taken and she heads to the door briskly. She breathes deep as she goes, focusing on the sound and heading back downstairs.

The doorbell ringing has her freezing. She wonders if it’s Five, but he never would ring the bell. He’s more likely to just jump into the house.

Vanya hurries down the stairs nonetheless.

Allison, Luther, and Diego are in the foyer. Allison beats them to the door, swinging it open.

It’s not Five.

There’s a pretty woman stood in a turtleneck and long coat with a badge hanging from her neck. Her face is serious, eyes sweeping over each Hargreeves sibling quickly.

“Eudora?” Diego asks.

“Don’t call me that,” she says like a reflex, stepping inside when Allison stands aside.

***

Five waits until the store clears out, until all the cars are gone and the inside lights have gone dark. It’s then that he jumps, appearing just past the entrance. The silence and the strange shadows cast by objects may have been eerie had he not experienced the same in at the end of the world.

He moves forward, flicking on a small flashlight and casting the light onto each mannequin. He feels excited, it’s been years since he last saw Delores and this is a reunion he wasn’t sure he’d ever get. He remembers her, in those last minutes they had together, urging him to go with the Handler, to take the opportunity. It had also meant parting ways with each other.

In the end, Five had listened. His own gut had told him he needed to leave the wasteland, to buy more time, Delores’ encouragement had helped ease the guilt of leaving her behind.

Five looks up into another stiff, painted on face with a frown, hoping that Delores is in the store. He turns up a center isle and freezes.

It’s her, looking far different than he last saw. Her clothes are clean for starters, and physically she has all her limbs still attached. He can tell she’s noticed him as well, a feeling of warmth and contentedness washes over him. He walks closer, taking in her elegant face and smooth smile.

“Delores,” he says quietly, “I missed you. It’s…been a rough few years,” he breaths. He can feel her sympathy and understanding flow between them, soothing the ache in his chest.

_I missed you too, Five. But why are you here?_

Five reels back. Had he upset her? Perhaps she _is_ mad that he left her behind? But…she doesn’t feel mad.

 _I’m not mad, Five._ She reassures. _I’m questioning why you’re here with me instead of your siblings._

“I need to talk to you,” he answers.

Delores’s face doesn’t change, it never does, but he can sense her frowning nonetheless.

_You don’t need me anymore though._

“That’s not true,” Five says quickly, shocked she would say so. “You’re the only one I can trust—”

 _Five_. She interrupts, voice chiding. _That’s a lie._

“I’m not lying,” he denies, Delores says nothing back, clearly disbelieving. “Are you talking about my siblings? Because they—they don’t, no, won’t get it and I can’t waste time on them.”

Her voice is firm as she speaks. _It’s not a waste of time. Allison believed you, Klaus helped you. And you have written them off after giving them the bare minimum and expecting more._ She lets her voice soften, _You’re not alone in the apocalypse anymore, and you’re not in the Commission either._ _You can lean on your siblings._

“Can I?”

_You spent 45 years trying to get back to them, are you telling me that after all that time you’re just going to abandon them the first chance you get?_

“I’m not abandoning them,” Five snaps.

_Then go back to them. Talk to them._

Five looks to the floor unable to meet her level gaze. “I saw them all dead. I have to keep that from happening again.”

 _Allison saved_ you _last night. They aren’t helpless, they grew up in the same house as you._

“They died though! Killed by whoever causes the end of the world! Why should I let them get involved and risk that again? I can find that person and end it before they get close, I just need a name.”

 _You can’t guarantee that!_ Delores snaps, frustration bleeding through her words. _They will be involved so maybe you need to change your strategy!_

“What do you mean?”

_Intervention instead of prevention, Five. Your lead is dry, but you have another. You know they will be embroiled in the fight against the person causing this. Don’t distance yourself from them._

“It’s risky. One misstep and we’re right back where we started, and I won’t be able to come back and restart. But if I can stop it…”

 _I’m not saying give up on preventing it, but you need a back-up plan. You’re a new variable that could tip the scales in their favor. But to do that you have to be in the right position._ Her voice gentles wistfully, _You don’t need me. Your family needs you and you need them._

Five’s eyes are burning. “You’re not supposed to say that.”

 _I couldn’t if you weren’t thinking it_ , she answers.

The ache returns. He knows and he’s always buried that knowledge deep, afraid of what would happen if he acknowledged it in his isolation. “You’re right. Of course,” he chokes.

Fondness runs through him. _Rather self-congratulatory of you, isn’t it?_

Five hiccups a laugh, startled.

“Delores,” he starts, looking at her painted face and realizing he’s going to say goodbye for the last time.

The shadows behind her move.

Five doesn’t think, he throws himself to the side just as their gun muzzles flash blindingly in the dark store. The mannequins on the stand fall, their bodies splintering as metal rips through them. Delores falls, legs and an arm missing with her head barren once again. Five scrambles under the line of fire and drags her to the side.

“Delores!” he exclaims, grabbing her neck.

_Go Five! I’m just a piece of plastic, run!_

She’s right. She’s right he has to go.

He clutches her to his chest. He’s never held her in this size body, it’s comforting for a moment to be smaller. “Thank you,” he whispers into her polka dot shirt.

It’s not the goodbye he wanted, but the agents are getting closer to his spot. He sets her down and runs. Shots follow him and he pulls space apart, slipping further away so he can breathe. He catches a glimpse of the two agents, their animal masks silhouetted in the meager light. Hazel and Cha-Cha.

They spot him, guns swinging to fire on his new position. He jumps again.

He’s never met them, just heard of their exploits through the Commission grapevine. They are good agents, some of the best. Not simple foot soldiers, rather the elite of the Commission. Perhaps if Five was in his regular body he would stand a chance, but he’s not. He has a shorter limit on his powers and a physically weaker body, the only weapon on him a knife. A gun would be an equalizer, but he’s shit out of luck in that department.

He can run and they will track him…or he could try to slow them down. They got the jump on him, but he can get the _jump_ on them as well, before they acclimate to his advantage.

The knife slides into Five’s hand as he makes the decision. He creeps along the clothing rack on his right, looking to get a visual on his targets. One advantage of his height is he doesn’t have to duck as far to stay low.

He gets to the end and peeks out. One of them is only a few racks away, towering over them and wearing the bear mask. Hazel, Five realizes. Opposite the man and further from Five is the smaller figure who must be Cha-Cha. Both of them are deadly, unfortunately for Cha-Cha, her vital points are easier to reach.

Five stays low, eyes tracking both and waiting for an opening, just a split second of distraction. Hazel stops fifteen feet from Five’s spot, head tilted towards a shelf and reaching for something.

That’s all Five needs. He jumps, space warping blue, and emerges behind Cha-Cha striking. The sound of his powers has her turning on quick reflexes, and Five cuts the meat of her side instead of hitting her spine. The woman curses stumbling. Five doesn’t get another chance to strike, her partner is once more at attention and firing at him. Five ducks down quickly, avoiding a shot as best he can and feeling his shoulder burn as it’s grazed, the knife falls from his hand. He throws himself into another jump blindly, stumbling on his landing and scraping his scabbed knees on the floor.

He’s landed behind Hazel, the man swiveling to face his direction. Five scrambles to his feet reaching for his power. There’s the barest moment where Five locks eyes with that cartoon mask before space closes around him once more, the shot that was aimed at him coming several seconds late.

Time to go, Five decides, running towards the front of the store. He can feel the exhaustion coming this time and he’s not eager to go up against Hazel and Cha-cha powerless.

Hazel follows after doggedly, firing off shots whenever Five is visible between clothing racks. Their height shields him, allowing him to run with cover.

The downside of having something taller than yourself as cover is that you can’t see over it either. Five notes this as Cha-cha steps around the rack in front of him, pink dog mask smiling and gun swinging. The butt of it smacks Five in the forehead, black and red exploding behind his eyes as he drops to the ground. It’s instinct that saves him from a bullet. He pulls on that well of power inside and spatial jumps. It’s not directed or precise, the pain in his head making it impossible focus in that single moment.

With a normal jump Five would land on his feet. This jump has him dropping from a foot above the ground, still positioned horizontally. Shots pop off near him. He opens his eyes, taking in the alcove he’s positioned himself in. There’s a cash register above him and candy shelves positioned for customers looking for a last-minute purchase. The cashier station then.

“Where’d he go?” Hazel asks.

Five doesn’t so much as twitch from his position on the floor, head pounding from Cha-cha’s hit, feeling exposed yet hidden. He listens carefully, trying to guess at their position.

“Little shit jumped again,” says Cha-cha.

The voices are muffled by the masks, growing more indistinguishable as wailing drones steadily louder. Sirens, Five realizes.

The two agents realize it too. “Let’s get out of here,” Cha-cha growls.

Five can see the red and blue lights dancing along the ceiling now, the sirens loud with the close proximity. He sits up, gritting his teeth as his vision swims. It clears after a moment and he feels comfortable enough to peek over the counter. The store appears empty, Hazel and Cha-cha apparently having moved on. Five lets himself sink down again, limbs heavy as what little adrenaline he had left drains away, leaving him shaky in its absence. His head throbs in time with his heartbeat and his shoulder is definitely starting to sting.

He rests his head on bloodied knees, breaths heavy.

The sound of the glass doors scraping open makes his head shoot up from its position. He has to leave.

His hands light up and space flexes before him. It doesn’t part.

Five stares at his hands, “C’mon just one more.”

He tries again, space doesn’t flex as much, more rigid against his powers than before.

Another door opens and it brings the sound of voices with it.

“Lots of gun smoke in here,” a man notes.

“Keep an eye out, there could still be shooters on the premises,” a woman orders, her voice low. “Ramirez you’re with me, the rest of you spread out.”

Five flexes his fingers, realizing there’s no way out with no powers.

Careful footsteps and the beam of a flashlight grow closer.

Five tries once more to jump away. His powers flicker for a moment before snuffing out like a candle in a tornado.

Light shines right into Five’s eyes. He flinches, head aching madly. Mercifully the light is directed elsewhere.

Left over bright-spots dance across his vision, clearing in increments and he can see two uniformed officers staring at him dumbfounded.

Slowly, Five raises his hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got long for me and I kept second guessing stuff and then deciding to add more things and then changed the ending-  
> anyways I'm fairly satisfied and really appreciating writers who are good at juggling multiple characters and plot threads and who make believable dialogue. Hopefully I didn't drop anything or get inconsistent!
> 
> Also, yay season 2 is coming out soon!


	5. Apocalypses, Bonding, and...Contusions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *stares suspiciously at my own writing* it's done...I think

“One last question,” Detective Patch says, “Can you tell me how your fingerprints ended up on a knife buried in one of my perps?”

“It’s like I said, these men were shooting up the shop and my brother was in the crossfire. I had to defend him and myself so I…well, used the knife.” Allison spreads her hands, “That’s everything, Detective.”

Patch scribbles in her notepad, nodding along. Behind her Luther and Diego lurk, heads peeking into the room. Allison knows Vanya is hovering just past them.

Patch knows too, setting her pen between the pages and turning to the door before either brother can duck back. “I’m done taking her statement so you might as well come in.”

Hesitantly, Allison’s three siblings slink in looking like children caught doing something bad. Patch smiles, reaching for her cup of tea, provided by Grace at the start of the interview. Luther sits on the couch next to Allison while Diego goes to the lone armchair and Vanya lingers on the fringe of their group.

“What’s going on Eu—Patch? Why did you call me earlier?” Diego asks.

Patch sets her cup down with a soft clink. “I found my witness strung up and killed this afternoon,” she starts, meeting each of their eyes. “I probably shouldn’t be telling you that, but I’m worried about the safety of you and your brother,” Patch looks at Allison then turns to fully face Diego. “Speaking of, I’m noticing a distinct lack of said brother.”

“He’s upstairs,” Diego says while Luther comments, “We don’t know where he is.”

Allison sighs.

Patch looks between them with raised eyebrows. “Well, wherever he is, be careful. This whole thing may be bigger than we think. And if you have any more information,” she looks directly at Allison again, “Don’t hesitate to share it.”

“Of course,” Allison assures, her face carefully schooled.

Patch doesn’t look convinced but stands anyway. Her radio crackles to life freezing everyone in their positions as a voice comes over the frequency. “We have a 10-14 at Gimble Brothers department store. Shots fired. Repeat, shots fired. 6045 Vanderbilt,” a woman announces.

Patch turns to Diego, her face stern. “Stay here. You hear me, Diego?”

“Loud and clear,” he answers.

“Do not go to that crime scene.”

“Of course not.”

Patch stares at him, searching for a lie. She probably sees it too, they all do. The radio bursts with more voices and Patch shakes her head walking to the door and bringing the radio to her lips. “Copy that, Detective Patch enroute,” she says.

They all stand still after the latch clicks.

“Do you think…” Vanya trails off, eyes darting between them.

“What’re the odds?” Diego huffs. “Knowing this family…”

Yeah, knowing this family. “Diego we’re going,” Allison announces, moving to the door.

“Read my mind,” he says following.

“Wait, the detective said to stay here.” Luther reminds them even though they heard her too.

“How about, Allison and I go make sure our brother isn’t at Gimbles while the two of you stay here like Eudora said,” Diego suggests.

“She was clearly talking to you,” Luther mutters.

Allison slaps Diego’s arm, “Hurry up.”

“Okay, jeez.”

***

It feels like he’s having sensory overload. The flashing lights leave afterimages on his retinas that he has to squint against. The noise drills into his eardrums: shouted orders, sirens blipping on and off, even the low-grade murmur around him sets his teeth grinding. His head is pounding, the focal point just above his left eye, where Cha-cha hit. It’s not a concussion, the light and noise sensitivity might contradict that, but Five knows what concussions feels like. He also knows that his body is exhausted and cold, on account of all the sweat that is meeting night air. A hit to the head and mild dehydration, but not a concussion. If the paramedic would _stop trying to shine a flashlight into his fucking eyes that’d be great_.

Said paramedic reels back in shock. Five may have let that slip out of his mouth.

Whatever. More breathing room for Five.

The two officers (one a short woman, clearly the senior, and the other a fidgety boy Five knows is called Ramirez) exchange a look.

He blocks them out, ignoring their whispers and the medic’s muttering.

His shoulder burns where Hazel’s bullet grazed him, but it’s not as bad as it could’ve been. A little thread and he’ll be fine. The knees wouldn’t have happened if his uniform had long pants and he’s once again questioning Reginald Hargreeves’ taste in their childhood uniforms. Overall, he could be in much worse shape considering his current body. In complete honesty he wouldn’t be anywhere near the shape he is in currently, if he had his old body.

And then there’s the persistent ache in his chest. A worrying ache to have, if he didn’t know it was more on the side of psychosomatic than an actual medical emergency. That would be his sentimentality rearing its head and pushing him to go back for Delores’s body, despite his conversation before the shooting started. There’s a large part of him that still clings to the mannequin, a part that remembers the ash storms and food shortages and all-encompassing loneliness. He doesn’t like the thought of leaving his long-time companion’s body there, riddled with bullet holes and missing limbs.

It must be grief.

He would jump away to deal with it in private if his body weren’t still shaking. There’s just no way that he has the energy to get away.

Very unfortunate, he thinks as the medic grabs his arm. The touch isn’t rough, it’s not even skin on skin, Five’s blazer between them and the medic with his gloves on. It still raises the hair all along his arm.

Five slaps the hand away with a snarl.

There’s a chorus of ‘Hey’s and ‘You’re okay’s from the two officers and a hurt look from the medic cradling his hand. It’s not like Five seriously hurt the man’s hand.

“It’s okay, Davis here just needs to look you over and make sure you’re not…hurt,” Ramirez tries to reassure.

Five stares at him flatly, letting him know how stupid that was and then switches to glaring at the medic, _Davis_ , daring him to try touching him again. Davis does not look eager to try again, much to Five’s satisfaction.

“Is this the witness?” a new voice asks.

Five lets his glare last a little longer before turning to the speaker. She’s not an officer, she’s dressed in smart street clothes and her badge hanging from around her neck. Dark haired and dark eyed, posture unthreatening but not a pushover either. The two officers turn to her, their tones respectful. Well regarded and someone with authority.

The woman waves for the medic and officers to give them the privacy and they listen.

The woman waits for them to be out of earshot before speaking. “My name is Detective Patch,” she holds her badge up a bit as proof, “I’m investigating what happened here. I know this may be difficult, but if you could answer a few questions that’d be a big help.” She smiles, not over the top, just her lips quirking up. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not telling you that,” Five answers.

Patch blinks but rolls with it, “Okay, can you tell me what happened tonight?”

If only Five could jump. “I was hiding, I didn’t really see anything.”

“How’d you get the bullet wound then?”

“Can’t remember, it’s probably the trauma.”

Patch sighs, crouching down. “I know this must be difficult,” she says patiently, “but I need you to answer me truthfully.”

Five doesn’t speak, staring at her obstinately.

“Is there someone I can call who’ll make you comfortable? Family or—” she cuts off as someone loudly squawks behind her.

Five stares in shock when he looks to see what exactly is interrupting them.

It’s Allison. And Diego, who had apparently been shoved aside so Allison could rush over to the ambulance. Five’s sister ignores Detective Patch, who tries to step between them, slipping by the other woman.

“Five,” she breaths, relief and stress in her tone simultaneously.

“Five?!” Patch says in the background. She gets ignored by both Hargreeves.

Allison’s hands come up, cupping Five’s jaw and tilting his head. Her hands are warm and soft he notes. The fingers of her left hand brush aside his damp hair so she can examine his forehead.

She steps back, hands dropping from his face to look at him entirely. He feels the loss as cold air rushes in to fill the gap again. “Are you okay?” she asks, eyes fixed on his bloody shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he assures.

Her eyes meet his and he has to blink at the steely anger he finds there. “Are you?” she asks again, voice stronger.

Five wets his lips, looking past her to where Diego has been cornered by Detective Patch. They’re having a whisper argument it seems. “I’d be better at home,” he allows.

Allison nods, untying her coat, “We’ll have mom patch you up there.” And then she drapes her coat across his shoulders.

Five stares at her confused, “I’m dirty.” Blood doesn’t exactly come out easy.

“You’re also shivering,” she points out, pulling the material around him tighter.

It’s certainly warmer than his uniform.

“Can you walk?” she asks.

Five has to roll his eyes at the question, hopping off the ambulance bumper. Allison’s hand steadies his stumbled landing, but he can certainly walk.

“Nice coat,” Diego snorts when they get close. His eyes are sharp though, looking Five up and down with a crease in his brow. No doubt he’ll yell at Five later.

“We’re going home,” Allison tells them. Detective Patch does not seem happy with that, but Five stops listening.

There’s a crowd forming near the police tape. People always seem attracted to crime scenes by curiosity. It made picking over target’s bodies more difficult. It also made the perfect cover to observe a scene.

Five let his eyes sweep across each face. Hazel and Cha-cha wouldn’t be there, not so close to a shooting they were involved in, far too risky. But the Commission has informants on the ground. Five has to wonder if any of them are there or if it was too soon for them to show up.

“Five,” Allison grabs his shoulder, drawing his attention back to them. “We’re going to get out of here.”

Detective Patch snatches Diego’s chest harness. “We are talking about this later,” she promises quietly.

Diego sputters, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Diego. There’s more to all of this,” she waves a hand at their little group, releasing Diego. “Get out of here.”

“Thanks, Eudora,” Diego says.

“Don’t,” she says with a hand up, turning and walking away.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Five asks idly.

Diego scowls, “No. And it’s none of your business.”

“Fine,” Five concedes, “Let’s go home. The long way preferably.”

“You think we’ll be followed?” Diego asks quietly, steering them in the direction of his car.

“I’m not sure.” Five eyes the crowd in his peripheral. Every face is curious, more than a few look in their direction as they walk. Five can’t tell if any of them were showing more interest in them than being present at a crime scene warrants.

Allison’s hand keeps drifting down to Five’s shoulder. It is like her subconscious feels the need to confirm that he really is there and she isn’t having a vivid dream. She catches Diego looking back at Five periodically too, then he looks ahead again swiftly. It would seem she’s not the only one who’s worried about their brother.

And she’s well within reason to be worried when she just found her brother at an active crime scene looking like he lost a fight and is shivering in his uniform. She’ll feel much better when they’re back at the academy and Grace can look over Five.

They get to the car and Five must truly be exhausted because he doesn’t argue for the front seat, instead opting to crawl in the back. Allison slides in next to him, unwilling to be far from him. Not when he seems to attract trouble when she’s not looking.

“So, the long route huh?” Diego adjusts the rearview mirror, eyes fixed on Five through it.

“You know the drill. Make some strange turns, speed through a few lights, double back or whatever. Just don’t take the direct route,” Five suggests.

“Yeah I got it.” Diego pulls them away from the curb. They make some hard turns and Diego seems to be enjoy making intricate moves to lose any potential tails.

They fall into silence, the low rumble of the car’s engine serving to lull them. Allison watches Five sink deeper into her coat afraid that he’ll fall asleep with his head injury, yet his eyes remain open if distant.

“Why didn’t you wait?” she finds herself asking, aware that Diego will hear.

Five stirs, focus returning to his eyes and turns to look at her proper. “What?” he mumbles.

“I told you we would figure this out together and instead I had to spend the whole day looking for you,” she manages to keep her voice low and even despite her anger. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” she asks again.

Five scoffs, “Wait and waste time explaining everything to the family that couldn’t even get through a funeral without breaking down.” He shakes his head minutely. “Time is not a luxury I have, ironically enough.”

Allison frowns. “So, you decided to take Klaus with you and intimidate a doctor. Did you find what you were looking for at least?” It comes out sharp.

Five looks away, “No.”

Allison takes a breath, deflating a little. “Do you have another plan?”

“I have some ideas,” he says with that distant look back in his eyes.

“So long as they include the rest of us,” she says lightly. Quieter she adds, “You had us really worried.”

Five’s face scrunches up in confusion.

Her eyes land on the gash on his forehead. “Guess we were right to be.”

“A small miscalculation on my part,” Five reassures when he catches where she’s looking.

“A _small miscalculation_ ,” Diego’s incredulous voice says. “Five you got shot and beat to hell.”

Five puffs up, taking offense. “It’s a graze and I’m not _beat to hell_ , I have a mild contusion.”

“Yeah, well, forgive me for not believing the guy with a head wound.” Diego snarks.

Allison taps Five’s arm gently. “Your shoulder looked like it’ll stitches.”

Diego raises a hand as if to say _see, I’m right_. “Mom will look you over when we get back.”

Five for his part huffs leaning back into the seat but offering no protest.

Allison feels herself relaxing, her worry assuaged with Five next to her.

***

Vanya doesn’t know how to interact with Luther.

Growing up they’d hung around different siblings and rarely, if ever, were alone together. It’s not as though Luther was mean, in fact Vanya thought he was possibly one of the nicest of her siblings. But he was also the Golden Boy. Dad’s favorite. And Vanya was the unfavorite. So they never hung around each other unless it was a group activity, like going to Griddy’s.

Now it’s painfully obvious how uncomfortable the two of them are with each other.

After Allison and Diego ran out they were both left behind together. They stood in awkward silence. The only relief was Grace coming into the room and offering dinner. Vanya had leapt at the opportunity to escape the atmosphere and Luther was on board as well. The problem was they really only switched rooms and added food to the atmosphere.

They sit in the kitchen with lasagna on their plates and nothing but the sound of metal on ceramic in the air.

Vanya scrapes another bite into her mouth, looking across the table at Luther. He’s hunched over, trying to be smaller despite the bulk. It doesn’t work. He looks as uncomfortable as Vanya feels.

“So,” he says, startling her. “Do you still play violin?”

“Yeah,” she answers, voice reedy. “I, uh, I play in an orchestra.”

He tries to smile. “That’s good. Super good.”

The conversation peters out just like that.

“The moon, that’s amazing,” she forces out. “You always wanted to go.” Of course he would finally get to do what he wants. It’s Luther.

Luther shifts. “Yeah…”

Vanya stares at her lasagna. “What convinced Dad to send you?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. Vanya looks up from her plate confused. Luther stares at his own plate, lip caught between his teeth and looking unsure.

“He wanted me to look out for danger,” he says eventually.

Vanya is unsurprised by this, their father was always looking for danger. “Really.”

“I thought…well, I had some doubts you know, after four years up there. But now, I guess he was right to be paranoid.” She’s surprised with the candid answer.

“You think he knew this would all happen?” she asks. Reginald Hargreeves had often toted the threat of an apocalypse around his kids. To think that it may not have been a scare tactic is…

“He must’ve known, and maybe that’s why—”

“—They’re here!” Vanya interrupts, turning in her chair towards the door. She can hear the car engine as it pulls up, rumbling and vibrating in the outside air.

“Really?” Luther asks even as he stands.

Sure enough there’s the sound of doors slamming and then the kitchen door swings open. Diego walks in first, scowling of course though it seems more relaxed than earlier when he’d snapped at her. Allison comes in next with her coat missing and her arms bare. It becomes clear where the coat went when Five follows her, Allison’s coat tugged around him.

Vanya stares. Five has blood on his forehead and he looks exhausted, just like he often did after personal training with Dad when they were little.

“Five, are you okay?” she asks, standing and coming closer.

“Fine,” Five answers.

This gets him two looks from Allison and Diego. Five glares at them.

“He needs stitches,” Allison informs. She looks at Luther. “Can you get Mom?”

“Sure,” Luther says, though he’s staring at Five like he wants to go make sure he’s okay himself. Vanya would like to too, but she has a feeling Five doesn’t want her near him. Guilt gnaws at her stomach.

“I can do it myself,” Five mutters.

Allison sends Five a quelling look, “Mom will do it.”

Luther looks between the two with raised eyebrows. “Mom probably should handle your injuries Five.”

Five waves a little hand at Luther. “Hurry up then.”

Diego snorts amused. Luther scowls at Five but turns to do just that anyway. He needn’t have bothered. Grace glides into the room humming.

“Oh, you’re back,” she smiles. Her eyes look over each of them, freezing on Five. He shifts under her gaze, jaw tightening. “Five, dear, you look hungry!” she finally chirps.

Vanya knows she’s not the only one looking at their mother confused.

“Five needs medical attention, Mom.” Diego says gently, always so much gentler with a robot than with his siblings.

She looks at Diego with her head tilted, as if that’ll help her understand better. Grace switches back to Five. She stands there for a long moment, smile frozen on her face. “Oh,” she says like she’s come out of a daydream, “Five your clothes are a mess! I’ll go get you a fresh pair of pajamas.” Then she turns and walks out presumably to do just that.

It’s just like at the funeral. Grace had seemed off then too. She was programmed to protect and care for them, for her to just walk out when one of them is visibly hurt is…not normal.

“What just happened?” Luther asks the room.

“I-I don’t-“ Diego stutters, too thrown by the strangeness.

Allison raises her hands drawing their attention. “Okay, we’ll come back to whatever that was. Five still needs stitches.”

“Looks like I will be doing them myself,” he comments, looking smug.

Diego recovers and ignores him. “I can do them.”

*

Diego does not do them.

They all pack into the infirmary and Allison and Diego set about grabbing supplies. The issue presents itself as soon as Diego has the needle and thread in his hands. His face drains of color and he shakes until Allison ushers him into a chair before he keels over. In their distraction Five snags the needle and begins stitching his shoulder, with Luther chastising him but unwilling to interrupt the delicate work. Vanya stands back, hands twisting restlessly as she watches them.

“I could’ve numbed that,” Allison says to Five.

“Whatever,” he answers back, tying off the stitches.

Allison steps up, dabbing around the wound and then offering a bandage. She moves to his forehead, cleaning the blood off and revealing the bruise that’s darkened painfully underneath. It gets a bandage as well.

“Look at me,” Allison commands raising a finger and watching his eyes track it. “I think you’re okay, but we should be careful.”

“It’s nothing more than a headache,” Five protests.

“Still.”

“Five, what happened?” Luther asks.

Vanya is grateful that he’d finally stepped in. She’s been dying to know what’s going on, and ever since that afternoon she’d felt like she was missing out on all the information and her other siblings were already informed.

Five smiles barely, “I ran into some old coworkers.”

“Assassins?” Luther asks sharply. Another strange part of the story Vanya had been told, her brother an assassin. It sounded more outlandish than the time travel.

Five looks up at Allison. “I see you told them already.”

Allison is unapologetic. “I needed them to know what we’re dealing with. You could’ve told them yourself earlier.”

Five accepts the criticism without another word, something that would never happen when they were younger. “Yes, they’re assassins. They work for an organization called the Commission that monitors all of time and space. Whenever someone messes with the timeline they send out agents to do _corrections_.”

“So, these people,” Diego says, looking more recovered from his near fainting. “They’re after you because—”

“—I’m trying to prevent the apocalypse.”

Luther’s brow furrows. “When is it?”

“I don’t know the exact time but in five days all life on the planet will be wiped out.”

They all fall silent.

Vanya stares at Five. He’s totally serious.

Luther steps away to pace. “Why didn’t you tell us this the first day?!”

Five shakes his head. “You wouldn’t have believed me.”

Vanya flinches back, guilt rearing its head. Five doesn’t so much as glance at her but it feels like the comment is aimed at her. He told her the first day. He came to her and confided in her and she hadn’t believed him. Had all but called him crazy.

Luther stops. “What causes the apocalypse?”

“I don’t know,” Five says. “But whatever does kills everything.”

“The eye is connected somehow though?” Vanya asks. She forces herself to meet Five’s gaze. He nods. “How do you know that?”

Five’s face shuts down. Not crumpling in sorrow or showing any type of emotion Vanya can identify. He’s a blank canvas. “It’s not important,” he says eventually. Vanya looks at her feet, wincing at the tone. “I couldn’t get a name today but that doesn’t mean there won’t be one tomorrow.”

Allison snorts. “I doubt you’ll be allowed in the building.”

“I can jump in and get the file.”

“During business hours when the building is full and they’re on high alert for the knife wielding child?” Allison says skeptically.

Five shrugs, unbothered by the descriptor. “That or I get the doctor outside. He didn’t exactly seem to be on the up and up.”

Diego perks up. “What do you mean?”

“He seemed pretty interested in the bribe Klaus was offering, there’s no way he’s not doing something shady.”

“I could talk to Patch, maybe get somewhere there.”

Allison crosses her arms. “There’s no proof the guy has actually done something, it’s just speculation.”

“That’s what stake outs are for,” Diego counters.

“What about the assassins running around?” Luther asks, bringing them back on track.

“What about them?” Five asks back.

“How do we deal with them?”

“Well, Hazel and Cha-cha will do everything in their power to stop me. But it also seems like the Commission left some details out of my file, so they’re gonna be scrambling to compensate.” Five smirks, “Gotta love office politics.”

“Just two of them?” Allison asks surprised.

“Agents are typically sent out in two-man teams, excepting me of course,” Five says with pride. “The squad at Griddy’s were nothing more than foot soldiers. Hazel and Cha-cha have killed people far more deadly than you guys, so avoid them if you can and kill them if the opportunity arises.”

Vanya is taken aback at his callousness. _Kill them if the opportunity arises_ he said like he would say _pick up milk from the store if you can_.

Diego stands with a stretch, “Well, this has been weird. I guess we’re stopping the apocalypse and fighting assassins now.” He looks down at Five. “You’re not going to run off without a word tomorrow, right?”

Five glares at him. “No.”

“Great, I’m going home. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Diego flounces out just like that.

Luther shakes his head. “I guess that’s that,” he mutters, following after.

Allison grabs the leftover supplies and Five hops down from his chair.

“Five, can I talk to you?” Vanya asks before he can leave.

Five looks surprised but nods, moving with her out into the hall. “What is it?”

Vanya wets her lips, nervous and unable to look Five in the face. She needs to know though. “This morning…why didn’t you say anything about Griddy’s?”

Silence stretches and she finds herself peeking at him. He looks uncomfortable now. It sends her gut twisting to see that on his face.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he says.

“You don’t seem to have that problem with everyone else,” Vanya blurts.

“Vanya I—”

“—You lied to me. _Only me_.” Vanya emphasizes. “I just, I don’t get it. Why am I the only one you didn’t trust? I-I found out everything from the others, I just—” she cuts herself off shaking her head. No, that’s not true, she heard before all of them. And didn’t believe him. In a way it’s worse.

“It’s different.”

He says it quietly enough that she almost misses it.

“What?” Vanya whispers.

“It’s different,” Five says again louder, his jaw works like he’s chewing his words. “They’re different.”

It feels like she’s frozen, hearing not only his words but all the words her family had piled on her growing up. _There’s nothing special about you. Go away Vanya. You’re not part of the Academy. You’re just ordinary._ Now the one brother who’d always been on her side is dropping another weight on her chest, the one who’d listened to her sob after their father excluded her again.

“Right,” she breaths, struggling to fill her lungs.

Vanya doesn’t look at him, turning down the hall and ignoring the choked off “Vanya” that leaves his lips. She needs to get away.

Her hands shake tugging her pill bottle from her pocket. She swallows pill sized relief, the medication going to work on the torrent of emotion that’s building in her.

Outside the Academy it feels like she can breathe again, albeit shakily.

She walks, throwing out a hand to hail a cab, a single drop of rain lands on her, running down her wrist in a cold trail. She tilts her head up, looking for more raindrops. The sky is clear, bright far-off stars shining against a black canvas.

***

Five lays on his childhood bed dressed in academy pajamas, forehead dully pounding, replaying the way his sister’s face had dropped as she practically ran from him in the hallway. He seems to have a way of upsetting his sisters with poorly chosen words.

Perhaps it’s for the best, to keep her away.

Her face flashes in his mind again. His gut twists uncomfortably and he rolls over, forcing the image from his mind.

There’s a knock on the door which has him sitting bolt upright. It swings open without an answer from him and Allison enters like the room is her own. Five stares at her, registering what she’s carrying.

“The hell is that?” He snaps, eyes on the pillows and blankets in her hands.

Allison isn’t at all bothered by his waspish tone, setting the pillows on the desk and unrolling the blankets onto the floor. It’s clear what she intends. “You’re not sleeping in here.”

“I am actually,” she says laying the pillows down and stepping back to look at her makeshift bed. “You took a pretty nasty hit to the head, I want to be careful with it so I’m staying here tonight, that way I can check on you.”

Five narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Is that the only reason?”

“No,” Allison admits, throwing Five off with how easily she does. “I want to be with you case those nutjobs come here.”

His chest feels warm. “They don’t know where I live,” he huffs.

“Well, you could always sneak out and find them again, so there’s reason number three.”

Five rolls his eyes exasperated. “I’m not some idiot child. I won’t sneak out and pick a fight with Hazel and Cha-cha.”

Allison smiles, “Good, that’s one less reason.”

He’s not going to get her to leave. Allison, Five remembers, can be more bullheaded than the lot of them. “Fine,” he concedes.

They settle onto their beds and Five turns off the light, sending them into darkness, save the light coming from the alley.

It’s strange to have someone so close while he tries to sleep. For decades it had just been him and shifting rubble, and Delores’s calming voice. Then at the Commission he was always alone, he didn’t share quarters with anyone and he didn’t speak to any of his coworkers unless necessary.

But laying in his childhood room he can hear Allison breathing and every shift she makes while trying to get comfortable on the hard floor. It’s different and not altogether unpleasant to have her so close. He’s glad that she seems to be over what he’d said the night before, but he keeps thinking about his conversations with Delores and the little girl. _Talk to them._

Five sighs, he screwed up already, multiple times if he is honest. Maybe he really does need practice, and maybe he could say the right thing to at least one of his sisters. No better time to try than the present, and he doesn’t feel like he can sleep despite his exhaustion. He grabs his pillow and comforter, sliding off the bed and walking to where Allison is laying. He drops his pillow next to her and wraps himself in his blanket, plopping down next to her as well, ignoring the protests of his scabbed knees. She rises onto her elbow, confused face just visible in the dim light.

“I’m sorry.” He tells the ceiling, unable to look at her even in the near dark.

“What?” she asks surprised.

“The other night. I’m sorry.” He hopes she won’t ask him to clarify further.

“Oh,” she breathes. She shifts so she’s laying on her back again, both of them laying on the hard floor and staring at the ceiling. Five has slept in worse places, but Allison is no doubt feeling uncomfortable. “Thanks, Five, I appreciate that.”

Five lets out a quiet breath, glad she’d accepted his apology.

They lay there, neither of them sleeping and neither speaking.

There’s something still bugging him though.

“Allison,” he asks, and she hums in acknowledgment. He wets his lips, knowing this is probably going to upset her again. “Who did you rumor?”

There’s a sharp intake of breath next to him. He braces himself for yelling, or Allison walking out. She remains silent and Five wonders if it’s somehow worse than the other two options.

Finally, she speaks, voice low but not betraying her exact feelings. “If I answer your question, then you have to answer one of my own.”

Five rolls the idea around in his head. “Okay.”

They fall silent again. Five keeps his eyes on the ceiling, listening to Allison breath forcibly calm. “Claire,” she whispers, guilt heavy in her voice. Five doesn’t move his eyes from the ceiling, letting the new information fill in blanks. “I kept telling myself it was okay, it was just small things, like getting her to eat her vegetables or, or to stop a tantrum,” she says, voice thick. “I did what I always did, and I lost her because of it.”

“Oh,” he mutters.

“I realized I did it to myself and that everything in my life was based on lies, on rumors. I didn’t like who I was pretending to be anymore,” She says voice regaining steel. “That’s why I stopped.”

It’s…not surprising. He knew a long time ago that his sister relied too heavily on her powers. And then Vanya’s book had confirmed that reliance had continued into adulthood. Still, he’s not happy that her wake-up call had turned out so harsh.

“My turn,” she says, fabric rustling as she turns to her side so she can look at him. “Why did you go to Gimble Brothers?”

Five rolls to his side as well, “That’s your question?”

“You went to Meritech because of the eye but I don’t get why you went to Gimbles.”

“I…needed to talk to someone,” he answers.

“At a department store, after closing,” Allison states.

“Yeah, it’s,” he pauses, trying to figure out how to explain Delores when he’s only just come to terms with the reality of her existence. “I was gone for a long time,” he settles on. Allison grunts affirmation. “And I was alone, but I also wasn’t.” In the low light he can see Allison’s confusion at the contradictory statement. “I went to go see my,” he stops again because what does he call Delores? She was everything at once. “…friend. Her name is Delores and she’s not…she’s, well, she’s a mannequin.”

“A mannequin.” Allison says slowly, unsure how to respond.

And Five, he finds himself with the need to explain. “I found her, after I got stuck,” he says quickly. “She was all I had for decades, and I guess I projected onto her until—”

“—She became real,” Allison finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

“So, you went to talk to her tonight,” Allison says, tone full of sorrow.

“I know she’s not real,” Five clarifies, not liking how Allison sounds. “Or I do now. It’s complicated.”

“Okay,” Allison says softly.

Five chuckles darkly, “It wasn’t the time travel that messed with my head, it was the isolation.”

Allison moves, her hand grabbing his own. It’s warm and comforting, and it takes all the air from his lungs. Allison’s eyes shine, earnestness all over her face. “You’re not alone anymore, Five.”

His eyes sting.

“Thank you,” Allison says suddenly, smile flashing.

“For what?” Five rasps.

“For telling me,” she says simply, hand squeezing his tighter and not letting go.

They fall into silence. Five finds himself comforted by the soft breathing of his sister, his own matching hers until they’re synchronized. His eyelids droop, the day catching up to him finally until he can’t resist the lull of sleep. The last thing he is aware of is Allison’s hand cradling his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted the Allison and Five slumber party from the beginning, you might even say it was one of my main motivations for this whole thing. It might seem like I'm explaining the apocalypse and commission thing a lot, but I just want to make sure the characters have an actual source for the things they know.
> 
> Also, hey season 2! I had to take a math final that morning and then I got to unwind (not really I had an adrenaline high as soon as I started the show) by bingeing the whole season. What a ride. Overall I had fun and enjoyed it, that's all I'll say.


	6. Take Me to the Gallows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a while but here it is!

Allison wakes up aching. She can’t feel her arm, the blood flow cut off from all her weight resting on it. She rolls onto her back, flexing her hand in an effort to get feeling back. She looks to her right with trepidation that eases when she catches Five’s sleep mussed hair sticking out of his comforter cocoon. Sometime in the night he had rolled himself into a blanket ball, his face just barely visible and relaxed in sleep.

Slowly, trying not to disturb him, Allison sits up, her back creaking in protest. Sleeping on the floor no longer agrees with her, though it had reminded her of falling asleep in pillow forts with Claire. Just without the extra softness between the floor and her.

She tiptoes across the cold floor and to the door, wincing as it creaks quietly.

“Allison,” Five says, alert.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” she sighs, looking back at where he’s sitting bolt upright with awareness in his eyes. His hair is sticking up in chaotic tufts and the bandage on his head will need to be swapped out. “I’m going to change and grab breakfast. Since you’re awake you can join.”

“Alright,” he agrees, shoving his way out of his comforter.

“Meet you down there.” She calls, heading back to her room.

Fifteen minutes later and she’s in the kitchen watching Grace at the stove. Luther is already there, munching on what looks to be his third plate of eggs and bacon, his eyes far away and mechanically shoveling his food into his mouth.

“Morning,” Allison calls making them both turn to greet her. Grace gives a cheery greeting back while Luther grunts acknowledgement. Allison moves to a chair, eyes on her brother. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly.

Luther blinks at her surprised. “Yeah, I…just have a lot on my mind.”

Allison quirks an eyebrow, silently encouraging him to speak but he shakes his head.

There’s a pop and a flash and suddenly the seat across from her is occupied by a 7-year old going on 58. He’s looking much more put together, hair smoothed down neatly and a fresh uniform and bandage in place. “How’s the head?” she asks.

“Unnoticeable,” he answers dryly.

There’s a great deal of clattering that draws Allison’s attention to the stairs, the sound echoing and accompanied by swearing. Klaus trips down the last few steps, managing to just barely catch himself on the wall.

“Well, well, well, look at this,” he smiles, hands flopping in a gesture that encompasses them all. “The gang’s all here.” He saunters over, flopping down in the seat next to Five. Five leans away in his seat, nose scrunching up. Klaus leans in closer to him, eyes suddenly focused. “Looks like you went a few rounds last night. Not the fun kind either.”

Five scowls at the close proximity. “You smell like curdled milk,” he hisses.

Klaus relents, leaning back. “I was in a dumpster.”

Allison shares a bewildered look with Luther.

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Five drawls.

“It was a special mission I’ll have you know. A very special, pointless mission as it turns out. What were you up to yesterday? Terrorizing someone who hits back?”

“He fought time travelling assassins in a department store because they want to stop him from stopping the apocalypse,” Luther interjects annoyed.

Klaus starts laughing.

He only stops when Grace brings them food, petering off into chuckles. “So, the apocalypse is officially on, huh? Not too surprised but I honestly thought we’d have a few more years.”

“We have five days,” Five says.

“Oh goodie,” Klaus groans. He leans onto the table jabbing his fork into his eggs.

Luther straightens, sighing. “We need to plan.”

The door to the alley bangs open and Diego walks in like he was summoned by those very words, dressed in his best vigilante gear.

“Diego, careful with those hinges, they haven’t been oiled in months,” Grace chastises.

“Sorry mom,” he apologizes, shutting the door with care.

Allison hides a smile, taking a bite of her breakfast to mask it.

He struts in, taking the seat opposite of Luther. Grace slides a plate in front of him, patting his shoulder with a smile that he returns.

Luther clears his throat, “So, the plan.”

Five shoves his untouched plate away, folding his hands on the table. “The plan is we go to Meritech and wait for my good friend Lance to make an appearance. Then we grab him—"

“—That’s kidnapping,” Allison objects quickly.

“Fine,” Five allows, “we wait for him and then have a friendly chat until he gives us what we need.”

Klaus waves a hand, drawing their eyes to him. “Wait. When you say friendly do you mean like yesterday when you held a knife to Grant’s balls or like an actual friendly conversation?”

Five tilts his head, looking confused. “That was Lance and I wasn’t holding the knife to his balls.”

Klaus snorts, “I’m a little concerned that your focus is on the technicalities and not what constitutes a friendly chat.”

“Five, you can’t go around threatening civilians with knives,” Luther clarifies.

“This civilian could have information that leads to the prevention of the apocalypse,” Five argues.

“Nah, we do this right,” Diego says. “We get hard proof this guy is a dirt bag and then we have a _friendly chat_.”

“Still a little murky on the friendly chat part,” Klaus mutters.

“A stake out then,” Allison says getting them back on track. “We can all agree on that, right?”

Five and Diego nod their heads and Klaus shrugs. Luther, though, shakes his head. “There’s something I have to look into today.”

“Something more important than the apocalypse?” Five asks, bristling.

“Yeah, you got something better to do?” Diego asks, always ready to fight with Luther.

“Hey,” Allison calls, heading this off before it can escalate. “Luther can do whatever it is he needs to. We don’t need four people for a stake out.” This at least gets Five to lean back in his chair, indignation forgotten. Diego scoffs quietly.

Klaus sighs, “That’s good because I was thinking of hanging around here today.”

“You weren’t invited,” Five huffs as Diego rolls his eyes, “Good for you Klaus.”

“Assholes.”

“We should get going,” Five says, standing from his chair.

“You haven’t eaten,” Allison points out, eyeing the plate he pushed away.

“I’m not hungry and we have places to be,” he says meeting her eyes stubbornly.

“Alright, alright,” she says standing. Diego shovels another mouthful from his fork and stands as well.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” a new voice says from the doorway. Pogo stands, his hands atop his cane. “There’s a Detective Patch in the foyer asking for you, Diego.”

“Really?” Diego questions.

“Of course, dear boy. She was, however, antsy. I advise you hurry to her.”

Diego looks at Allison and Five. “But I—”

Five smirks, cheek dimpling. “Sounds like your girlfriend wants to talk, Diego.”

Diego jabs his finger at him. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Allison leans close to Five, “She’s his ex-girlfriend.”

Diego gapes at her, “I never told you that.”

Allison smiles sweetly, “You didn’t have to.”

“Diego had a girlfriend and she’s here now?” Klaus stands. “I have to see her right now.”

That has Diego panicked and scrambling to keep Klaus from leaving the kitchen. Five tugs on Allison’s sleeve, urging her towards the door. Allison eyes Diego and Klaus, the former now lifting the latter to keep him from running to the foyer.

She shakes her head. “Let’s go.”

***

If Five had his way, they would sit in complete silence, doing nothing to blend in and staring at a building. Thankfully Allison is present. After twenty minutes of silent, and intense, building watching, she cajoles Five into leaving the car with her. There’s a mini mart on the corner and Five didn’t eat at breakfast, she’s determined to rectify the situation even if the food is a bit junkier than she’d like.

“I’m not going in there,” Five grumbles.

A couple passing by gives Allison a sympathetic look that she ignores as best she can.

“Five, the workday just started, I don’t think we’re going to miss anything in the five minutes it takes to buy food.”

This does not convince her brother, who crosses his arms and looks at her obstinately.

She could stand here, arguing with him, which is like arguing with a brick wall, or she could just grab what she needs in less time than reaching the same conclusion would take.

“Fine, don’t wander though, I’ll be—”

“—Five minutes, I know you just said that,” Five says impatiently, eyes back on the Meritech building and completely missing the annoyed eyeroll Allison gives him.

The little store is packed with all the junk food 12-year olds and Klaus love. Five is technically 58 though, even if he looks 7, and Allison is not really sure which direction his tastes lie in (she never paid attention to it as a kid, and they so rarely actually picked their own food anyway). This of course wouldn’t be a problem if he just came in with her.

With a sigh she starts grabbing anything that looks mildly good, aiming for a variety. Chips, roasted peanuts, commercialized pastries, a few candy bars (the mom in her cringes at the selection). She finds trailmix and snatches it up, along with a bag of banana chips, they make her feel slightly better. Some water bottles and a brief moment of contemplation at the freezer section and she has amassed a buffet of food.

Check out goes smoothly, even though the cashier squints at her hard, likely trying to figure out if she’s really seeing Allison Hargreeves in some random mini mart.

Allison steps back outside, laden with bags and no brother. She stares at the spot she left him, heart racing. Had those Commission guys gotten him?

“Five,” she calls, feeling frantic. Then she spots that ridiculous black uniform across the street. Her breath leaves her, relief washing over her. Annoyance quickly takes its place.

Allison runs across the street, holding her hands up as a driver honks at her.

“Five, Five!” she calls.

He doesn’t acknowledge her, head turning this way and that. It puts Allison on edge. Perhaps he saw something that was off. “Five,” she says softer, stopping next to him and quickly scanning the immediate vicinity. She sees no one besides a man and his dog and a group of kids playing soccer. Nothing seems off.

Allison looks at Five, uneasy and hoping for answers. But Five’s eyes are wide, darting around almost fearfully. She realizes right then that whatever he’s seeing is not what she sees.

Allison sets her bags down and moves in front of him, not daring to touch him yet, but hoping that he’ll focus on her. She lowers herself so she can look into his face properly. He looks like a scared kid, eyes wide and breath hiccupping out of him.

She smiles, and it’s strained but she doubts Five will notice right now. “Hey Five,” she says, voice calm and level. It’s how she used to talk to Claire when she was on the verge of a meltdown, though it wasn’t always successful (no, she had another strategy if talking didn’t work, she thinks regretfully). “I got us snacks. You really should have seen the selection they had inside. I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I grabbed a variety.” She watches as his eyes focus on her with each word, awareness bleeding back in. He blinks at her, face turning red all of a sudden and then his eyes dart around them again, though this time it’s not fearful but filled with embarrassment.

Allison stands, grabbing the bags from the ground slowly and allowing Five to collect himself again. “You good?” she asks casually and misses the mark.

“I’m fine,” Five snaps, embarrassment turning into anger. “What took you so long?”

Allison doesn’t let herself react in kind, taking a deep breath. “There was a lot to choose from.”

He swivels on his heel, walking briskly towards the car. “Well, great. Shopping trip over, let’s get back to what we came here for.”

Allison follows, frowning at his back concerned.

And she has every right to be after that little episode. Her brother had clearly been out of it, frightened of something only he could see and when he snaps out of it he gets angry and claims to be fine. He says that a lot. _I’m fine_. He said it the previous two nights too. Well, Allison is calling bullshit.

They get in the car, Five closing his door with more force than necessary. Allison sets the bags between them. Five is tense, arms crossed and hands clenching his sleeves, he looks unwilling to speak and also like he’s anticipating the conversation, ready to bite back at her.

He’s defensive.

Allison looks into the bags, acting like she doesn’t feel the tension in the air. She finds what she’s looking for and thrusts it towards him, shaking it a little when he leans away. “Saw this and thought you’d like it,” she explains.

Slowly, Five uncurls his arms and takes the pint of ice cream she bought him. “Coffee flavored?” he says, sounding intrigued.

Allison hums, grabbing a spoon for him and fishing out her own strawberry pint. “You’ve only really had vanilla and chocolate. But they make just about any flavor you can think of.” She pauses, nose scrunching up, and confesses, “That’s not always a good thing.”

Five cracks his open, spoon dipping into the ice cream eagerly. Allison doesn’t bother pretending to not be watching him take the first bite. He sits there, spoon in his mouth and eyes closing in what Allison assumes is enjoyment.

“Do you like it?” she asks.

Five’s eyes open and he glances at her quickly. “It’s okay,” he says, spoon dipping for another scoop. She catches his lips quirking around the next mouthful and counts it as a win.

He’s definitely not fine, but at least she can try to help him.

***

Vanya’s not entirely sure how she ended up in the café. Let alone in the café on a date.

She’d spent the night tossing and turning in bed restlessly, intrusive thoughts keeping her awake. Her day had not started any better, she’d been late to practice and forced to face the humiliation of being tardy. Her conversation with Helen had been…disheartening.

Vanya hadn’t really been paying attention to where she was going, head too full of thoughts and hands white knuckling her pill bottle like it was a lifeline. Why she’d ended up at Bricktown, standing in front of a little woodshop was a mystery. When she’d turned to leave though she’d found herself face to face with her student, Leonard.

She was ready for him awkwardly tell her to leave, for him to be uncomfortable at seeing a strange woman after knowing her only a day.

But Leonard hadn’t seemed put off. He smiled and invited her inside, showing her his wood carvings and then awkwardly presenting one of her. She’d stared at it, impressed with the craft, though she was no expert.

She’s still not sure how she’d ended up at a café with him, but she feels like it was supposed to happen.

For the first time all day she feels like she can relax, the man’s awkward yet charming demeanor easing her anxiety.

“Here’s your coffee,” he says, setting the cup down for her.

“Thanks, you, uh, really didn’t have to do that,” she says.

He shakes his head, smiling. “I wanted to.”

Vanya feels her lips quirk up, warmth flooding through her.

“There it is,” Leonard points.

“What?”

“A smile. You look like you haven’t smiled in a long time.”

Vanya swallows, looking down into her coffee. “It’s been a rough few days,” she admits.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Leonard offers, leaning in.

“No, no. I don’t want to unload on you.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly leaning away again. “You probably have others to talk to, that was presumptuous of me.”

He’s wrong, though, she doesn’t have anyone to talk to, not unless she calls up her old therapist. “Still presumptuous, but I…don’t really have anyone to talk to right now.”

A smile blooms on his face once more, wide and toothy. “Well, that makes two of us.”

Vanya stares at him unconvinced.

“I know, I know. Chatty guy like me, right?” he says, self-deprecating. “But growing up I was always the outcast. Didn’t really fit into any groups, no matter how hard I tried.” He says it bitterly, eyes downcast. “My only real connection was my father before he died and our relationship was…complicated.”

“Yeah, complicated sums up my family pretty well,” Vanya mutters. “I…we haven’t seen each other in such a long time, but it’s like nothing’s changed. It’s like we all just fell right back into our assigned roles.”

Leonard shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Vanya.”

Vanya stares into her coffee. “You know, I have a brother who went missing years ago, and he just showed up out of the blue.”

“Really?” Leonard asks, intrigue in his eyes. “Bet there’s quite the story there.”

“He ran away when we were kids,” she explains. “I haven’t seen him, all these years, but he was…we were close. Some days it felt like he was the only one on my side. Now…” she trails off, looking at Leonard unsure. She hadn’t meant to talk about her problems so much.

“It’s different,” Leonard says and Vanya flinches at the phrase.

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly.

“It’s the people closest to us, that we look up to, that usually hurt us,” he says gently. “And sometimes it takes time to recognize that they do.”

Vanya doesn’t comment further, sipping from her cup. She was hurt by what her brother said. It wasn’t anything new really, she’s heard similar things all her life. But to have it come out of Five’s mouth had hurt more than if Diego had said it.

“I’m sorry,” she says eventually.

Leonard looks at her confused.

“I said I wouldn’t unload on you and that’s exactly what I did.”

Leonard chuckles. ”You don’t have to apologize. I’m enjoying this. The getting to know you that is!” he adds hastily.

“That can’t be true,” Vanya says, smiling tentatively.

“Alright, alright, the subject matter is a little…heavy. Let me make it up to you?”

“How?”

“Dinner tonight? We can talk about other things, like how bad I am at violin.”

“You’re not bad, everyone starts somewhere,” she admonishes, cheeks feeling warm at his request. “And I’d like that.”

Leonard’s smile stretches wide, “Perfect.”

***

The ice cream had loosened them both up and while Allison would still like to address what happened, she figures that a little time and patience wouldn’t hurt. Especially when Five had seemed so angry to have been caught in such a state.

She would like to talk though, just normal conversation with her brother.

It’s not that the silence really bothers her, she can sit still and be quiet, but she wants to talk with Five. Like they did last night, sharing little parts of themselves after years apart.

She cast her eyes around the interior of the car, hoping something would give her a topic of discussion. She’s not exactly sure what she should talk about. A yellow notepad lodged in the driver’s door gives her an idea. She snatches it up, casting about for a pen to use.

“What are you doing?” Five asks.

“Just getting something to pass the time. Ah, there it is,” she holds a pen up triumphantly.

She catches Five shooting her a quick glance, curiosity drawing his intense gaze before it snaps back to his target. Allison smiles to herself, doodling on the page quickly and casting about for inspiration.

“Alright it’s a five-letter word,” Allison announces.

“What?” Five asks. He looks at her, baffled and then his eyebrows shoot up. “Is that—”

“Hangman. Give me a letter, Five.”

She can see the indignance growing. “I’m not playing a game!”

Allison focuses on the paper in her hands, twirling the pen a little. “It’s the perfect way to pass the time,” she replies calmly, adding details to the wood of her little gallows.

“I don’t need to play a game, I’m not some kid that needs distracting.”

“Hangman is the most low effort and non-distracting game ever. Perfect for breaking up the monotony.” Allison adds a small hill for her gallows to sit on, little tufts of grass appearing in quick strokes. “I mean, it’s only five letters, how hard can that be?” she adds.

In the corner of her eye she can see Five turn back to his previous position. Perhaps he can’t be goaded like when he really was a kid. It was a trick all of her siblings had used on him (to be honest they used it on everyone, no one in their family could back down from a challenge).

“A.”

The pen freezes where she’s drawing a sun. “What was that?” she asks, trying hard not to let her smile be heard.

“I said ‘a’.” Five answers tersely, but louder.

Allison tuts, drawing a circle for the hangman’s head. “Nope.”

She can just see the downward tilt of Five’s eyebrows. “E,” he says next.

Allison fills in two e’s for him, tilting the paper so he can see where they are.

His eyes linger for several seconds. “Is the word _green_?” he asks unimpressed.

“Wow. Look at you guessing it in three goes,” she says lightly.

Five crosses his arms, looking like the epitome of a disgruntled child. “Don’t pick stupid words.”

Allison can’t suppress her smile. He didn’t tell her he was done. “Alright, prepare yourself,” she warns, drawing a new gallows.

“Alright, alright! New game!” Allison cries through her chuckles.

“Fergalicious is not a word!” Five yells.

Allison smirks. “It is, you’re just a sore loser.”

“I’m not a loser, I won every round until you used a made-up word!” Five exclaims, voice going high.

“It’s not made-up!”

“Okay I used to play this with Claire,” Allison says, smiling at the memory of her daughter. “We each take a turn drawing something small and then the other person adds to it until we get a picture.” She draws a jellybean shape and hands it to her brother. “Your turn.”

Five takes the notepad looking contemplative. “I don’t draw.”

“That’s the fun part. I mean I’m no artist and Claire was 3 when we started doing this, we weren’t exactly good, but the pictures were always fun to look at.”

Five ducks his head, staring at the paper before setting the pen against it. “What’s she like?” he asks, two precise triangles drawn on one side of the jellybean.

Allison accepts the paper, eyeing it as she thinks. “She’s…shy one moment and then the most outgoing person in the next. Kind, sweet, a little spoiled.” Allison smiles, drawing a long winding tail on the paper. “Very bossy and charismatic.”

“Sounds familiar,” Five hums, taking the paper back.

“Yeah. But she’s so much better than I was as a kid.”

The pen stops in his hand abruptly. “What do you mean?”

“God, the things I would do to all of you…the rumors and…manipulating everything so I came out on top.” All the choices she would take away from her siblings and how powerless they were to stop her. “I was a terrible sister.”

“You did some questionable things. But we all did,” he says with a headshake.

“But none of you took away each other’s freewill. I mean, I used my rumors to get back at you for revenge or just so I could have the bathroom first.”

“No,” Five says firmly, turning to face her, child’s face intense. “You used your powers exactly how Dad taught you to, and when you went too far he didn’t stop you. You’re flawed, just like all of us are.” His face softens. “We all made mistakes, Allison. The fact that you are owning up to them is good.”

“I’m still sorry.”

Five shakes his head, turning back to their mish-mashed drawing to complete his section. “You’re my sister, I forgave you a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she says quietly. She feels warmth spread through her chest at her brother’s words. He says _You’re my sister_ like that is the most important part to him, like it absolves her of all past transgressions. “Our cat looks really weird,” she says, redirecting the conversation.

It really does though. It is clear which parts belong to who. The looser, curved lines coming from Allison’s own hand while Five’s additions are straight and geometric.

Five holds the pad out, scrutinizing their creation. “Then we’re succeeding?”

Allison snatches the pad, doodling a face onto the cat and giving it an adorable cat-smile. “Yep, Claire would love it.”

Five grabs the pad again, scowling. “Now it looks…dopey.”

“It’s cute.”

This does not deter her brother from snatching the pen back and hunching over the drawing. “That’s better,” he announces.

“Why did you give it angry eyebrows?”

“It’s a cat, they’re all dastardly.”

Allison laughs, “It looks like you now.”

Five’s eyebrows come down in an exact imitation of the severe slant he put on the cat’s face.

***

It’s actually a rather pleasant day, somewhat surprising for the end of March when rain is so common.

“Diego stop looking at the sky and focus.”

Diego drags his eyes away from the peaceful blue above them to the angry, beautiful, detective in front of him.

Patch crosses her arms, leaning back in the café chair. “Run that by me again.”

“Those guys you’re looking for are time travelling assassins.”

“This _joke_ , is really not as funny as you think,” she says, unamused.

“Trust me I know, but it’s not a joke. You met my brother, the one that went missing sixteen years ago, notice how young he looks?”

She stares at him and he meets her gaze, trying to convince her. She shakes her head, bringing her hands up to cradle it. “Oh my god, you’re not lying,” she moans.

“Wish I was.”

“You,” she mutters, glaring at him. “You and your Hargreeves bullshit.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, don’t look at me like I’m crazy. Only your family would be involved in this kind of…fantastical…shit,” she finishes with a groan. She looks up and sees the grimace on his face. “Is there more?” she asks disbelieving.

“So, apparently the apocalypse is in five days which is why the assassins are after my brother.”

“How the hell am I supposed to work with this? No one will believe me.” She sighs, collecting herself. “I could put your brother in protective custody, I mean he was at Griddy’s and Gimbel’s so there’s precedent.”

Diego imagines trying to get the ornery 7/58-year old to agree to such a thing. It ends with Five jumping away or Diego getting bruised shins and then his brother jumping away. “Yeah, I don’t think that will work. Five is very fixated on his mission.”

“Your brother could be killed Diego.”

“I know, Eudora.” He snaps, “You think that wasn’t all I could think of yesterday? God, he looks so young and he’s such an asshole and I don’t think he understands how concerning it is that he just runs off! But what can we do? He can spatial jump wherever he wants without us. Which means it’s better to let him do this and be there with him, so he at least has back up next time he runs into those asshats.”

Patch smiles at him, a small quirk of her lips. “It’s nice to see you with your family, Diego.” She leans forward, grabbing his wrist. “Just try not to let there be a _next time_.”

“I have a feeling I won’t get much of a say in the matter. You’ll be my first call if they show up again,” Diego promises.

“That’s all I ask,” she says, standing. “Well, this has been eye opening. I have to get back to work, good old-fashioned police work. Who knows, maybe we’ll catch a break on those assassins.” She pauses in leaving, looking back at him. “Be careful, Diego.”

“You too.”

***

Luther is searching through his father’s room once more, trying to find anything he missed the first time. Any hint of foul play.

He’s interrupted from his search by knocking on the door, the pattern mimicking a song. Luther sighs, walking to the door. “What do you want Klaus?” he asks his brother.

Klaus smiles, eyes darting to his right. “Some company. Seeing as everyone else has left, you’re my only option.”

“Are you sober enough to conjure Dad?” Luther asks, knowing it’s a long shot. Just that morning Klaus had clearly been riding out a night of indulgence.

“Still a no,” Klaus says with a wide smile. “What are you doing, snooping through all of Dad’s things?”

Luther moves back into the room, not particularly excited to be left dealing with Klaus. “It’s nothing.”

Klaus follows, his hands brushing against the dressers and picking of the small artifacts their father left behind. Luther keeps a careful eye on those hands. Klaus has shown he has no problem with stealing from the house in the past. “No, no, no, share with me,” he practically pleads.

Luther looks at the bed. It’s been on his mind since yesterday, would it really matter if he said something to Klaus? He’ll probably forget about it later. “I think the Commission, the guys after Five, sent assassins to kill Dad.”

Klaus freezes, blinking in surprise. “Oh…shit, that’s—"

Luther cuts him off, hurrying to explain himself before Klaus of all people tells him he’s reaching. “Five said they want the apocalypse to happen, so why wouldn’t they eliminate Dad, right? He knew it was coming and he was always saying we needed to be prepared.”

Klaus looks…contemplative. His eyes drift around the room, lingering on an empty spot by the dresser before he speaks. “I always thought he was using that to get us to do chores.”

Luther shakes his head. He knows that was a common thought among his siblings, but Luther had always believed Reginald. “No, and last time I spoke to him he seemed off,” Luther offers.

Klaus gnaws on his lip. “So, you’re looking for clues.”

“Confirmation. Anything that could tell me if it was assassination.”

Klaus hums and Luther is surprised that his brother actually seems interested, even serious about the matter. Klaus has always been a wild card, and with drugs in his system Luther can hardly understand what comes out of his mouth much less what he’s thinking.

Klaus nods his head towards the dresser. “Well, he was always monitoring us, maybe if we ask Pogo he can show us how.”

That’s…true. Their father was always studying them, trying to assess how best to help them reach their full potential. He always seemed to know what was happening in the house, much to Luther and his sibling’s occasional embarrassment. “That’s…a good idea, Klaus.”

Klaus smiles at the praise, looking as surprised to receive it as Luther was in giving it. “Just don’t mention me cause I’m on Pogo’s shit list right now.”

Luther stares at his brother, wondering how in the hell he’d managed to get on the mild, old chimp’s bad side. But then again, Klaus has the ability to get on anyone’s bad side. “Okay,” he agrees, deciding not to ask.

Klaus stays out of sight as Pogo leads Luther to the security room. The chimp seems almost excited to have been asked if they had any surveillance.

Klaus waits, fingers tapping a rhythm against his thigh. He’s set for the next few days thanks to last night’s walk about, but he’s probably due for another dose soon. He hasn’t seen any ghosts, besides Ben, but the air is just that little bit colder that means he’s getting close to the possibility.

“How did you know there would be surveillance?” Klaus asks for distraction.

Ben shrugs from his spot leaned against the wall opposite. “Educated guess. I mean he used to monitor us sleeping and he recorded everything in notebooks. Seemed almost impossible that he wouldn’t have some way of watching us.”

Klaus wrinkles his nose, “You don’t think there was anything in the bathrooms, right?”

Ben says nothing.

“Holy shit, do you?”

“Let’s just say, I would not be surprised.”

Klaus sighs, “Yeah, that’s valid. Dear old dad never really understood the need for privacy…unless it was his own. What do you think he did all those hours—"

Ben clears his throat before Klaus can continue that line of questioning. “I think you’re clear to enter now,” Ben informs.

Klaus saunters down the hallway and shoves the door open. Luther doesn’t startle, seemingly absorbed in all the tv screens before him. Klaus can see all of them as little kids running around.

“Hey big guy,” he greets.

Luther blinks and looks at him, seeming surprised to see him there. “Sorry, I just…got a little caught up in all of this.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty interesting,” Klaus comments.

On screen he can see little Allison and Ben run by in a game of tag, high pitched yelling audible.

Luther shakes his head, fascinated with what once was. “Look at us! We were so small,” he says with a chuckle.

Klaus finds himself smiling, exchanging a glance with Ben, who is staring at Luther intensely. “Well, Five is still a little tyke at least.”

“When I first saw him, I thought he was just that small, even as kids you know. But looking back, we were all that small.”

“I don’t think Vanya’s grown since she was thirteen,” Ben laughs.

Klaus laughs with him, and when Luther turns he repeats the joke. It gets a smile out of the big man.

“I don’t get it,” Luther says finally, and Klaus hums in confusion. “We were happy back then. What happened?”

Klaus stares at Luther shocked. “Luther, buddy. These are just little moments in the grand scheme of things.” He looks at the screens, scanning for something he can use. In the end it’s himself that he sees, far below drinking age and already raiding their father’s bar. “See, I was already drinking my worries away.”

“That’s just you though, Klaus,” his brother states. “Number Four, no responsibility and always looking to push Dad’s buttons.” He says it like it’s something he’s heard or something he’s said a lot.

Ben stares wide eyed, eyes darting between them.

Klaus chokes on his laughter. Of course, that’s how Luther would view it.

“You don’t know shit, Luther,” he jabs, anger bleeding through his tone. Luther turns to him surprised. “You don’t know what I see, what I’ve seen my whole life. People don’t always die peacefully in their sleep, y’know. They come to me mangled and desperate and they don’t care about proper speaking volume.”

“Klaus—” Ben starts.

“ _Oh that’s just how Klaus is_ , well yeah, wouldn’t you want an escape from endless corpses? And hey, I feel great so really it’s you that is missing out.” Ben scoffs at the last part, witness to far too many of Klaus’s overdoses and breakdowns to ever agree.

Luther stares at him silently and Klaus really wonders what’s going through Number One’s head. Daddy’s favorite. Can he even understand what it was like growing up for the rest of them? And Klaus is sure it’s the rest of them too with the way they all turned out, it’s laughable.

Luther looks away without a word, staring at the screens again. “There has to be something more recent,” he says quietly.

Seems like they’re just going to pretend that all didn’t happen. That’s fine by Klaus, he doesn’t really want to get into it and is shocked that he’d snapped in the first place. “Looks like they stopped years ago,” he comments, voice back to its chipper inflection and eyes glancing over the rows upon rows of VHS tapes.

“When we all left,” Luther says, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Klaus turns his head to look back at him, expecting an accusatory glare. Luther’s not looking at him though, his eyes fixed firmly upon his own hands.

Ben waves his hand, pointing to a lone tape, separate from the others. “What’s this one? There’s no date.”

Klaus walks over, pretending he found it himself. “This one has no date.” He throws over his shoulder for Luther to hear.

His big lug of a brother perks up in interest. “Put it in.”

“Aye, aye captain,” Klaus says with a jaunty salute.

The video is grainy. But they can make out everything on screen. Reginald’s room, the old man himself and Grace. They watch the video, tensing as it progresses.

“Oh my god…” Ben whispers.

They watch as Reginald Hargreeves falls back to his bed, struggling. “…Dad,” Luther says, sounding small.

“Why isn’t Mom doing anything?” Klaus asks, his voice high in agitation.

Luther stares at the screen blankly. “I-I don’t get it.”

Shit, shit, shit. What the hell is going on?

“Diego is not going to take this well,” Klaus breathes. He doesn’t want to think of how distraught his brother will be to see this.

Luther is still looking thrown, rewinding the tape. Klaus looks away, uncomfortable. He didn’t particularly care for their father, but it didn’t feel good watching him in his death throes. “Mom just walked away,” Luther says, voice sounding punched out.

“She never would.” She never had before. Always there with a bandage and caring words, ready to provide first aid.

Luther stands up, like he just can’t handle being seated anymore. “No, last night! Five was hurt and it was like she didn’t even register it.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It doesn’t,” Luther agrees, his eyes wide. “Something’s wrong with her.”

Luther starts pacing, or pacing as much as he can in the small room. Three steps back and forth, his brow furrowed. Klaus stares, uneasy. “Okay, what’s with that look?”

Luther stops, meeting Klaus’s eyes. “Maybe…they got to Mom. Messed with her programming.”

Klaus wants to laugh. Someone getting into the academy and then managing to screw around with their mom’s programming? It sounds ridiculous.

But, it could happen right?

With everything else that’s going on is it really that ridiculous?

Ben slumps against the recording equipment, seeming to be contemplating the same thing. “No way,” he mutters looking queasy.

Klaus shakes his head. “Oh, Diego is really not going to like this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Okay let's write out these scenes with Leonard/Vanya and Luther/Klaus/Ben because they're hard to write  
> Also me: *writes more Five and Allison fluff*
> 
> Hope this was enjoyable! It's definitely transition-y and I'm just trying to set up for future chapters. This also got longer than I thought, like I was going to write more and then I was like holy crap I've already written enough for a chapter  
> Definitely wasn't as confident writing Leonard and was iffy on some other scenes too so, sorry if they aren't up to par


	7. I Spy with my Little Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only stare at this for so long so *shoves it away* take it from me  
> I spy is not played despite what the chapter title may imply

It’s dark when Diego makes it to the Meritech building, the sun having already descended and signaling the end of the workday. Employees walk out of the building, calling out goodbyes and invites to a night out in equal measure.

Diego spots their father’s car parked with a perfect view of the entrance to the building while remaining inconspicuous. He walks towards it, avoiding the street-lights and sticking to the shadows. He can just make out Allison in the driver’s seat, turning towards the passenger side, when he slides into the backseat smoothly.

Before he can settle Allison curses and then there’s something flying at his face, smacking him in the nose. “What the hell, Allison?!”

“What the hell, Diego?!” she yells back.

“I told you not to freak out,” Five says calmly from his seat, hair just visible over the back.

“ _Of course_ I’m going to freak out when someone gets in the car without warning. I thought he was some creep,” Allison says looking down at their small brother.

“Well, you weren’t wrong there,” Five agrees. Diego can hear the smirk in his little prepubescent voice. “How’d your talk with the detective go?” he asks before Diego can insult him back.

Diego leans forward so he can talk to them proper. “It was fine. Took her a bit to believe me, but she got there in the end. Said this was just the kind of thing our family would be involved in.”

Five casts a look up at him, lips twisted in a smirk. “Wow, Diego. She’s smart, beautiful, and has a moral compass. No wonder she dumped you.”

Diego gapes at his brother. He can see Allison’s lips twitch as she turns to stare out of the window to hide it. “I wasn’t dumped, you little shit.”

Allison looks back at him, face back under impeccable control, curiosity reflected in her eyes. “Why _did_ you two break up? You seem like you’d be cute together.”

He looks between the them, taking in Allison’s open interest and Five’s stupid, haughty little kid face. “I’m not talking about my dating life with you two,” he hisses, pointing between them. “Not like either of you would know about relationships.”

Allison looks away, hurt flashing across her face at the pointed words. He won’t feel bad about it, her divorce isn’t news and anyone could’ve predicted the direction the relationship would go. He won’t sit here and listen to her act like she knows how good relationships work (not like any of them do). And Five…is Five.

Five leans across the seat, closer to Allison and raises his hand like he’s going to whisper a secret to her. It’s such a childlike gesture, purely for spectacle it appears because Five doesn’t bother lowering his voice at all when he says, “That right there is probably why she dumped him.”

Diego starts sputtering. He wants to growl out that they know nothing about it.

Allison laughs and Diego feels his cheeks heat up, but she doesn’t look back at him. She stares at Five, who lets his hand drop and there’s the smallest of smiles on his face (it’s the first genuine one Diego has seen on his face since he came back). Allison isn’t laughing at Diego mockingly, she’s laughing at what Five said (a joke? From Five?).

Diego feels like the third wheel suddenly. “You two are acting weird.”

It’s like his voice is a switch, that small genuine smile is wiped away immediately. “I’m acting at the normal standard.”

Diego’s eyes dart between them suspiciously. Sure, Allison had helped clean Five up a bit and they went through a shoot out together and she’d led the manhunt for Five yesterday (She had shoved Diego out of the way as soon as she spotted him. He’d seen her fussing over their brother and Five let her), but were they always so…comfortable with each other? He can’t for the life of him remember them being buddies as kids (real kids).

“Your standard is really damn weird,” Diego says back.

“Alright, you two let’s not get into this,” Allison says before Five can give an acidic reply. “Is that the guy?” she asks Five.

“No. He’s more weasel-y.”

“Appearance-wise or demeanor?” Allison asks, like this is something she’s well versed in, and maybe she is.

“He was shifty and he twitched a lot. He looks a bit heavier than your typical weasel-y guy though,” Five clarifies.

“Sure he wasn’t acting like that because of the knife you held to his balls?” Diego butts in.

Five huffs, “I wasn’t holding it there and he was acting like that before the knife came into play.” He pauses, head tilting. “Shifty that is, he twitched a lot after.”

“Well this guy is acting pretty shifty.” Allison points to the front of the building, where a man is loitering.

The man is not very good at looking natural, his head looking every which way in a suspicious manner. Clearly looking to see if there are any witnesses around.

Five perks up in interest, like a dog that’s caught the scent. “That’s him.”

“Okay,” Allison holds up a hand, “I think we need to hammer out the plan before you run out there all gung-ho.”

“Since when are you the leader here,” Diego scoffs. “I should be the leader. Obviously.”

“Please, Diego,” Allison starts exasperated.

“I’m older than both of you. If anyone’s the leader it’s me,” Five interrupts.

“Neither of you is the leader. In fact, there is no leader, we’re all equal here,” Allison says firmly. “But as the most rational adult here, I am saying we are not kidnapping or injuring that man.”

Diego smiles, “We’ll just talk to him, let him draw his own conclusions about what we’ll do if he doesn’t answer us.”

“I can promise no kidnapping,” Five says.

Allison stares at them. “Oh my god, we are going to get arrested and go to jail.”

“I’ll get you out,” Five promises.

There it is again, that weirdly genuine…thing. Diego scoffs, “That’s real sweet you two. Now if you’ll pay _attention_ , I think our man is about to commit a crime.”

There is a car driving slowly up to the sidewalk. Lance moved towards it with the most unconvincing casual walk Diego had ever laid eyes on. This is followed by a very clear exchange of envelopes.

“Well, you were right about him being shady,” Diego comments, watching the car drive away. “Let’s go have that friendly chat.”

Five nods. “We corner him at his car, that way he can get us in the building if we need to.” He then disappears in a flash, leaving the other two to scramble after him.

“I didn’t miss that,” Diego huffs.

Allison shares a look with him. “I’m getting used to it, unfortunately.”

They catch up with Five on the other side of the street, the three of them creeping through shadows and following the criminal doctor as he goes to his car. Diego feels the familiar thrill of stalking his prey, though it’s thrown off a bit by Allison’s muttered curses and questioning of why she’s following them at all.

Diego throws an arm out to keep Five from walking ahead of him. Five shoots him an annoyed glare, ducking his arm and speeding up out of spite. Diego picks up his pace as well, long legs giving him an advantage over Five’s short stature.

They stop, ducking behind a car as Lance reaches his own. Diego stares at it hard. “Damn that’s a nice car. Guess we know what he’s spending money on.”

Allison leans around him and Five and snorts, “Sure it’s nice, but that color is too trendy and hard for resale. He should’ve gotten black, black never goes out of style and is always classy.”

Five’s voice drips with fake sweetness. “I’m glad you guys are focused on the important things. Hey! Maybe we can steal it after this, but first let’s do that thing that could you know…stop the apocalypse!” His voice drops into a hiss.

“How do we do this?” Allison sighs.

“Like this,” Five answers and blinks away.

“That explained nothing,” Diego mutters.

A high-pitched yelp and the sound of jangling keys draws their eyes back to Lance, who is cowering away from a very short and smiling Five. Diego and Allison stand hurrying over for the confrontation.

“You!” the man says, voice shaky.

“And us,” Diego announces. The man looks at him, eyes going wide when they land on his harnesses filled with knives. Allison hangs back from their little group, trying not to be recognized.

“Hello Lance,” Five says pleasantly. “Seems like you left some things out of our talk yesterday.”

“I-I don’t—”

“It would be in your best interest not to test me right now,” Five warns, tucking his hands into his pockets. He has the preppy schoolkid look down, but his eyes are dark with promise and his smile is too sharp.

Diego taps his finger on the hilt of a knife, wondering if he should draw it for the extra intimidation factor.

“Okay!” Lance exclaims, caving like a house of cards. Diego is honestly surprised by how little effort that took, or rather no effort, but maybe Five did more of a number on the man than Diego previously thought. “I manufacture prosthetics for fake patients. I bill the insurance companies and then sell them for cash on the black market.”

“—So the eye I showed you could have been bought already,” Five states, voice hard edged.

Lance swallows, “I-it’s possible. I have a list, a w-waiting list—probably twenty buyers.”

“I need that list, Lance. Now!” Five snarls, making the man jump.

“I-it’s in my office.” The man says weakly.

Diego places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Then we better go get it,” he says with a smile. Once they have the list he’ll call Eudora. She’ll be happy to get a bust like this.

***

Luther leans around the wall cautiously, as if he were a spy in a movie. Unfortunately, he’s not the most subtle person, especially now that he’s jacked, there’s definitely more of him visible than there should be.

Klaus bites his tongue to keep the giggles back. It feels like they’re kids again, playing hide and seek or tag, leaning around corners to see if any other siblings are coming. He leans around Luther, which puts him almost in the center of the hall, not that he cares. Ben stands in the hall, invisible to all but Klaus, with his arms crossed, for how supportive he’d been of Luther, he’s certainly giving their brother an unimpressed look now. “What exactly are we doing again?” Klaus asks with a wink at Ben.

Luther shushes him. Which seems like overkill really. “We need to figure out if Grace is…you know, tampered with.”

Grace herself is sitting at her charging station humming while doing needlework. She looks normal to Klaus.

Ben looks back at their mother and raises a questioning brow.

“I thought you said she was already acting, uh,” Klaus wiggles his fingers, “weird.”

Luther shuffles back around the corner and Klaus steps back as well, in the interest of staying _sneaky_. “Yeah, but we should get more information. Confirmation.”

“Why don’t you ask her about it? Just say ‘Mom, did any crazy people come to the house and force you to kill dad, also do we have any more biscuits?’.”

Luther sputters, “I can’t do that!”

“Why not? It’d take like two seconds.”

“Because…what if she attacks me or something!” Luther says, really reaching for a reason not to outright confront Grace.

Klaus throws his arms wide. “Then you’d know for sure!”

“Yeah and then I would break her and we don’t exactly know how to build another Mom.”

That brings Klaus up short. “Good point. Also, Diego would definitely know if we tried to replace Mom, he’s very in tune to her. He’d probably kill you, and then he would come for my skinny, yet supple ass.”

Ben rolls his eyes, “Boney, more like.”

Klaus shoots him an annoyed look.

Luther doesn’t see the exchange, still looking hesitant. “Exactly. And if she is a threat I’d rather…unplug her, as opposed to destroying her beyond repair.”

“That’s a much better idea,” Ben agrees.

Klaus purses his lips. “That’s still pretty cold big guy, and Diego would still kill you. Could you imagine? Where would you keep her? Maybe with the vacuum cleaners, but then Diego would come after you for the indignity of it.”

Luther shakes his head, voice defensive, “At least then we could still try and fix her.”

“Oh.”

“’Oh’? Why did you say it like that?”

“That’s just a pretty good point…coming from you at least.”

“Thanks?”

“So, what do we do instead? Ask her for tea and see if she poisons us? Fall down the stairs maybe?”

“You could try overdosing again,” Ben snips from the sidelines.

Luther looks horrified. “No! We’re not—”

“Luther, Klaus, what are you boys doing here?” Grace interrupts, having snuck up on them.

They all jump in surprise, turning to look at Grace smiling at them.

“Mom, how’s it going?” Klaus manages, suddenly nervous.

Grace’s smile shrinks a bit, her eyes focusing on him. “Dear, are you feeling okay? You sound off.”

“No, I’m perfect as usual,” Klaus reassures as Luther chirps with over the top cheer, “Actually, Klaus has been feeling down.”

Klaus shoots a look at Luther. Luther shrugs his wide shoulders, eyebrows jumping up. Klaus rolls his eyes and coughs a little, “Yep, really down.”

Grace steps closer and Klaus tenses, the grainy tape running through his mind again. Next to him he can feel Luther do the same. Grace stares at him, smile on her face, for several long, long moments before she steps back. “I’m sorry to hear that, but I know just the thing for you!”

She turns on those beautiful heels and heads for the stairs. Klaus and Luther exchange a look before hurrying after. It seems that she actually is functioning if she’s getting Klaus medicine.

Grace moves through the kitchen efficiently, setting water to boil and grabbing things from the cabinets.

Klaus let’s himself flop into a chair. It’s so reminiscent of his childhood he feels himself unwind a little.

“Here you go, dear,” Grace says, sliding a cup in front of him. “A nice cup of tea to pick up your mood.”

Klaus stares into its murky depths with trepidation. “Uh, I don’t know—”

Luther stares at the tea distrustfully. “Mom, Klaus is sick not sad.”

Klaus tilts his head, “Well…that’s not entirely true.”

“It is pretty sad watching you,” Ben comments, a small smile on his lips.

“Klaus,” Luther hisses.

Klaus does not engage Ben, nope. So what if he’s right and an asshole? “Yeah, uh, I just feel so sick, Mom. Maybe some Pepto Dismal—”

“Bismol.” Ben corrects.

“—Bismol would help.”

Her head tilts just the slightest bit, a small amount of confusion crossing her face. “Oh, well of course you can have a snack. You don’t need to ask.”

Luther leans towards Klaus, the chair beneath him creaking. “Something is definitely wrong.”

Klaus shies away from the reality, even with the evidence he’s seeing firsthand, even though he’d known before coming down to the kitchen. “Let’s just be extra sure,” he says cheerily. He doesn’t wait to hear Luther’s reply before he slams his teacup against his forehead.

“Jesus!” Luther exclaims in shock.

Klaus ignores him, growling to hold in the moan of pain as hot tea and porcelain roll off his head. It stings and burns.

“Klaus, let me get a towel!” Luther says, sounding concerned.

“Dear, your clothes are filthy. Let me get you something fresh.” Grace says from somewhere above him, her heels click further away.

“You idiot,” Ben hisses from above, sounding concerned and disapproving at the same time.

Then there’s something blessedly cool against the heat, sucking away the hurt little by little. “Keep that there,” Luther commands, bringing Klaus’s own hand up to hold the wet cloth in place.

“Well, I guess you were right. She didn’t do anything she was supposed to. Honestly, I feel a little neglected.”

Luther comes back, dropping a first aid kit on the table. He looks at Klaus in confused anger, “Why would you do that?!”

“Do what?” Klaus asks, smiling a little at how worked up his brother looks.

Luther pulls bandages and hydrogen peroxide from the kit, his movements jerky as he works himself up more. “Hurt yourself,” he growls.

“Oh, Luther,” Klaus sighs, leaning back and letting the towel drop to the table. Luther moves in, rubbing at his cuts with quick swipes. “No need to get your banana hammock in a twist over this, it’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” Luther asks incredulous. “Klaus you broke a hot cup of tea on your head!”

“We needed to make sure that Mom was really on the fritz! And I did!” He throws his arms out. “Look at how helpful I’ve been! I deserve an award.”

“There were other ways Klaus! You didn’t need to hurt yourself.”

“It’s fine Luther, I really don’t mind spilling a little tea.”

Luther goes quiet his gaze intense. Klaus leans away as much as he can. Luther doesn’t look at him like that, he looks at him as the junkie, the screw up that deserves scorn and disappointment. Not whatever this is.

“Klaus, do you…feel like you should hurt yourself?” Luther asks.

Klaus starts laughing. “Luther, what—”

“—No, look it’s okay. I know…I mean sometimes we feel like, I mean it’s not the same for everyone…and you’re not alone—” Luther falters, the words coming out tangled and confused as he tries to figure out the right way to say his piece.

Klaus stares wide eyed at his brother, Ben joining him with a muttered, “Oh my god.”

“Luther, wait, wait, wait.” Klaus holds his hands up to stop Luther. “I’m fine. I don’t have the need to hurt myself beyond my bedroom activities.”

“And through drugs. Can’t forget those,” Ben adds. Klaus ignores his addition.

Luther’s face reddens. “Oh. Well, yeah, that’s good.”

Klaus squints at his brother. “Do you have something you’d like to share, dear brother?” He lets his eyes linger on Luther’s arms, raising his eyebrows.

“What? No, I don’t have anything to share.”

Klaus rolls his hands casually, eyes searching Luther’s face. “Because that was quite the leap and I just get this feeling that this kind of thing has been on your mind, maybe.”

Luther purses his lips and presses a band aid firmly to one of Klaus’s cuts without answering or meeting Klaus’s searching look.

It’s a lousy distraction. Ben waves his hands towards Luther, silently urging Klaus to keep talking. Klaus shakes his head back, Luther clearly does not want to talk about…whatever that all was. And if he doesn’t then Klaus is not going to try forcing it. Because he has tact. So, it looks like this is another conversation they’ll be ignoring. Klaus carries on like nothing happened. “So, Mom is definitely not all there.”

Ben huffs in annoyance, muttering to himself, “Why can’t anyone talk in this family?”

Luther presses another band aid to Klaus’s forehead. “Yeah. It’s like she doesn’t even hear us, or like our words get replaced. Even visible injuries don’t elicit a reaction.”

“So, what do we do?” Klaus asks.

Luther grimaces. “Well, we can’t let her continue like this.”

“Uh-huh, that sounds ominous.”

“…maybe Pogo would know? I mean he worked with dad so he might know how to…fix her?” Luther offers, sounding far more hesitant than ‘Number One’ should.

Klaus, however, is not going to argue against him. “Worth a shot. Hey, maybe if we get her patched up we won’t have to tell Diego!”

***

The elevator ride takes way too long. Lance cowers in the corner, practically fused to the wall in his effort to stay away from Diego and Five.

Allison is of course fused to the wall opposite of him, hoping against hope that she won’t be recognized. The man’s fear of her brothers is helping keep the spotlight off of her.

They get off after an eternity, heading towards the offices. Five leads the way, seeming to know just where to go. It makes sense she reminds herself, he was there the day before so of course he would memorize the location. Obviously.

Glass walls and glass offices make Allison feel exposed as they walk through, taking their…friend-definitely-not-hostage (she’d said no kidnapping but this seems an awful lot like kidnapping and she’s not sure how she didn’t see _that_ coming) to get his illicit black market buyer list.

Lance stumbles over to the cabinet behind his desk, sliding one of the panels aside to reveal a safe. He taps out the code, his fingers shaking so much that he has to restart. An understandable reaction to have with Five standing obnoxiously close to him and watching the process like a predator about to pounce.

Diego clears his throat making the doctor startle. “Five, maybe you should stand over there. Give the man some room and all,” he says carefully, not ordering or trying to provoke anything for once, and points to the spot next to Allison.

Five glances between them and then looks back at Lance’s shaky efforts before sighing very put upon and disappearing in a flash and reappearing next to her. Allison barely manages to resist putting a hand on his back to ease the almost pout on his face.

Fortunately, without Five hovering over him the doctor manages to get the safe open, shuffling papers aside until he gets the one he wants. There’s telltale sound of teleporting and then Five is back over there, viciously snatching the pages from the man’s hands.

“Well?” Diego demands.

This gets him an irritated handwave and Five scans the list, eyes running over the page meticulously. Allison finds herself wandering closer in curiosity.

It’s…taking longer than expected.

Allison watches carefully as Five’s eyes reach the bottom of the page and then dart back to the top. He’s rereading it, probably worried he’ll somehow miss the numbers to the eye. He flips the page and does the same to the next. Allison feels her heart sink as he rereads the last page and then flips to the front again.

There’s nothing there she realizes.

Five’s increasingly manic reading does it. Allison walks over and this time she doesn’t hesitate to place a hand on his shoulder. She feels him stiffen, just like he always does (she wonders what causes it, is it surprise or revulsion? He never says to stop, sometimes she thinks he relaxes into the touch). “Five,” she says guiding him towards the corner of the office. She catches Diego’s eye, shaking her head. His expression is grim as he nods back. He turns to Lance and starts talking, Allison pays them no mind, focusing on Five, who clutches the papers like a lifeline, seeming almost as far away as he’d been earlier that day.

“Five, is it not there?” she asks, trying not to sound too gentle. It’s difficult not to with the look on his face, she’s worried he’s back in that place that made him scared that morning.

Five looks down at the papers blankly. “No, the number’s not here. No one has bought the eye.”

“Okay,” Allison says wracking her brain for something to say to get that look off his face. “There’s still four days, maybe we’re just here on the wrong day.”

“Delores was right,” Five mumbles, blinking down at the pages in his hand.

Allison’s more than a little startled at that statement. “What?”

Five blinks again and meets her eyes. He seems more aware suddenly, like he’s realized where he is once more. “It’s…nothing,” he says.

Allison raises her brows, silently asking for more of an explanation.

And he answers, quietly, eyes drifting to the pages again. She almost wants to snatch them away so he can’t look at them anymore. “Just…a change in tactics may be in order.”

Allison nods. They’ll have to talk about it more later, get the family together and try to figure something out. She watches Five for a moment longer, he doesn’t seem lost anymore, instead it seems like he’s thinking about something. She tunes back in to Diego and Lance. Her brother is currently threatening the man with the police, no doubt mentioning his connections to Detective Patch.

Five recollects himself and strolls back into the conversation. “The police will be the least of your worries if you fail to contact us when this eye gets bought,” he threatens.

Lance looks between them nervous, “Understood.”

“Diego, give him your card,” Five orders.

Diego’s lip curls, “Do I look like I carry business cards on me?”

Five looks up at Diego with his face scrunched. “I suppose I overestimated you then. Write down your number for the good doctor.”

“Why would I need to hand out business cards?” Diego huffs, moving to the desk and jotting down a number nonetheless.

Five’s eyebrows shoot up. “Don’t you give them to victims or something so they can get your help again if they need it?”

Diego is quiet for a long moment, like he’s actually considering the logistics of handing out vigilante business cards. “That’s…too incriminating,” he says slowly, as if he’s still thinking on it.

“Whatever. Lance, you’ve been no help whatsoever for a second time. Let’s not try for a third,” Five says with a grin.

Lance nods, holding the slip of paper Diego hands him close.

Five turns on his heel and leaves without another word, Allison and Diego falling into step behind him like a pair of bodyguards.

“So, what now?” Diego asks once they’re in the elevator.

“Now, you guys do whatever it is you normally would,” Five murmurs, sounding deep in thought.

“What we’re just giving up?” Diego hisses, like the very idea makes his hackles rise.

“No. Our lead is dry right now and we have no others, so for now you can do whatever it is you normally would until we get a call from the doctor.”

“Is that…really the tactical change you were thinking of?” Allison asks. It doesn’t sound like a very Five thing to do, not with how he’s been running around lately. The only time he’s sat still was for the stakeout and even then it had a connection to the apocalypse.

“Yes,” he says, but Allison gets the feeling he’s not saying something. She’d expected more of a reaction to the plan essentially falling through, and she’d thought it was happening in the office but apparently Five still had some back up plan.

Diego meets her eyes behind Five’s back, his eyebrows rising in question. She shakes her head and shrugs. She’s not sure what’s going through Five’s head right now, but she’ll find out.

***

Luther leads them up from the kitchen and in search of Pogo.

He really hopes that the old chimp will be able to help them with Grace. While Luther had never been exceptionally close with the robot, he did care about her and he knew that a few of his siblings would be devastated to lose her (much more than losing their father). And…he would prefer to avoid that if possible.

Klaus follows behind him, band aids covering his cuts from the teacup. Luther still doesn’t know what to say about that event, he only hopes that Klaus wasn’t lying when he said he doesn’t want to hurt himself.

Luther freezes in the lounge and Klaus runs into his back with a muffled yelp. Luther reaches a hand back to steady him, holding the other to his lips to ask for silence. Klaus rubs his cheek but miraculously doesn’t utter a peep.

There are footsteps in the foyer and low voices speaking, Luther can’t make out the words yet but the timbre is off, it doesn’t match any of his siblings. There are intruders in the academy.

“Klaus,” Luther whispers urgently, pushing his brother further back and towards the kitchen once more.

“…looks like we’re in the right place.” One of the voices says, a flash of pink appearing between the pillars of the room.

“Sure looks like the old man or…kid, if he was an older…kid,” a deeper voice says.

“Let’s not get caught up in the semantics of it.” The first voice says. Whoever they are they become visible, fully entering the room. It’s too late to not be seen.

“A dog?” Klaus mutters.

It’s a pink dog mask, its wearer swings in their direction raising a gun.

“Shit!” Luther hisses, putting himself between Klaus and the muzzle while dragging them to cover. Gunfire shatters the previously quiet night, bullets tearing through cushions and wood with aplomb. Feathers and splinters rain down onto the two Hargreeves ducked behind a couch. Klaus whimpers, hands rising to cover his ears and curl into a smaller target. “We’ve gotta move,” Luther yells over the noise. Klaus doesn’t make any sign of having heard and Luther curses. They’ve both been out of the field for years, but Klaus has been for even longer and he was never in the thick of things during missions.

“I’ll get you out,” Luther promises, not caring that his voice is drowned out but the rapid firing from beyond the couch. He reaches for Klaus, dragging him closer and wrapping an arm around his middle, with his other hand he grabs the end-table set against their couch. Luther wastes no time pulling himself up, hefting Klaus on one side and holding the table out like a shield. Bullets smash into the wood immediately, the hits vibrating up Luther’s arm. It won’t hold for long, but it doesn’t have to. He runs.

A bullet makes it through and grazes his forearm, but Luther pays it no mind, running back to the kitchen. Two pairs of footsteps pound on the wood floor behind him. He hurls the table behind him and hears a crash and curse.

“Cha-Cha!” The deep voice from earlier shouts.

“Get that asshole, dipshit!”

Luther jumps down the stairs, Klaus lets out a loud yelp at the jarring landing. Luther sets his brother down, who scrambles on his feet unsteadily. “Klaus, hide!” Luther orders and turns in time for a big man in a suit and blue bear mask to reach the bottom of the stairs, shotgun rising. Luther steps closer and shoves the gun up, the shot hitting the ceiling and sending dust floating down.

The man is strong, Luther can feel it in his grip. This doesn’t stop Luther from ripping the shotgun from the man and tossing it behind him. The bear man doesn’t panic at the loss, sending a jab into Luther’s jaw and breaking them apart.

Luther blinks, surprised that he lost ground.

“Who the hell are you people?” he spits.

The man raises his fists, stance widening. “We’re just here for the boy.”

Five. These are the Commission agents he mentioned.

“Yeah, well, you’re not getting him,” Luther says, matching the man’s stance.

Klaus is not having a good time.

Luther told him to hide but there’s not really anywhere to hide in the kitchen. He had to settle on ducking behind the old store refrigerator unit. He has a distorted view of Luther and the guy in the blue mask exchanging blows.

“Klaus, you have to do something!” Ben says frantically next to him.

“What am I supposed to do?” Klaus asks, wincing as Luther is hit into the fridge, leaving a dent in his wake. The mask guy descends on him, raining blows down that Luther blocks with his bulky arms. Luther is strong, but so is the other guy and the man clearly has training.

“You need to help him, Klaus!” Ben demands, his voice panicked.

He sounds how Klaus feels.

“Alright, alright,” Klaus whispers. This was not how he thought the night would go. Sure, he imagined shenanigans and pissing Luther off, but certainly no life-threatening danger.

Klaus crawls out from his cover towards the pool table. Ben follows, his eyes fixed on the brawl across the room.

Klaus grabs one of the gleaming pool balls and hurls it at the man attacking his brother. Klaus has never been particularly gifted in aim, but it seems the universe is on his side in that moment. The ball smacks into the back of the blue mask, making a loud noise (metal?).

“Yes!” Klaus exclaims.

The hit didn’t do damage, but it had been awfully distracting.

Luther grabs the man by his lapels and throws him hard across the room. Towards Klaus.

Klaus yelps, ducking back down as the burly man goes sailing over him with a yell.

“You good, Klaus?” Luther asks, hurrying over.

“Almost got my head taken off by a flying bear, but yeah, I’m great.” He huffs.

Ben slaps a hand through Klaus’s arm. “Klaus!” he yells, pointing at the door.

Klaus reaches out without a thought and pulls Luther behind the pool table right as bullets slam into the green felt. He hears a hiss and catches sight of red dripping down Luther’s shoulder. He wasn’t fast enough. He reaches out a hand, to do what he isn’t sure, but Luther doesn’t notice. His brother pulls himself up and grabs the underside of the pool table and lifts.

Pool balls clatter off each other before falling to the floor and Luther heaves the table. It flies towards the dog mask lady, who rolls out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed.

“Holy shit—” Klaus gasps.

“Klaus, that guy is getting up!” Ben kindly informs. And Indeed, the bear mask man is standing up behind them while the dog mask stands up in front. They’re stuck in the middle. Klaus snatches up a pool stick from the ground and holds it in front of him, hands twisting against the wood.

“Got any ideas, big guy?” he asks Luther.

Thankfully neither of their attackers have any guns anymore, having to abandon the tools because of Luther. They are more hesitant now, warily squaring up with Klaus and Luther.

“Where is Number Five?” the pink dog snaps, voice a snarl.

“Not here, obviously,” Klaus calls back over Luther shushing him.

“That’s a damn shame,” the blue bear says and then the two are moving and so is Luther.

Klaus is shoved aside as Luther’s fist collides with the blue bear mask, sending the man stumbling back. The pink dog is fast though, kicking at Luther’s knees and working to take him down.

“Klaus!” Ben exclaims helplessly from the sidelines.

“I know!” Klaus shouts back. He gets his feet under him and swings as hard as he can. His pool stick hits the woman in the back, snapping from the force of the blow. The woman lets out a shout and stumbles, Luther uses the opening to throw her much like he did the man before. She hits the ground and rolls to a stop, weakly pushing at the ground to stand again.

The man in the bear mask roars and charges Luther like a bull seeing red. Klaus can only stare in shock as the man heaves Luther over his shoulder and suplexes him hard into the ground.

“Luther!” Klaus calls. Luther doesn’t move.

The bear man stands up, suddenly seeming a hell of a lot bigger than before.

Ben steps between them like he’ll be able to stop the man. “Run, Klaus!” he cries over his shoulder.

For once Klaus listens.

It doesn’t help.

He makes it halfway across the kitchen before he gets barreled into and slammed into the floor, head bouncing off the cement and vision going dark.

He can just make out Ben’s voice calling out to him before he slips fully into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually was enjoying the Luther and Klaus (+Ben) scenes, I don't know, Luther cares for his brother even though he's really weird and confusing and Klaus cares for Luther even though he's usually a stick in the mud
> 
> Diego, suspiciously watching Five and Allison smile at each other: "what is this...weirdness with you two?"  
> Five and Allison, bonded over silly games and being shot at: "it's called loving and caring for your sibling, Diego."


	8. Space Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me *sobbing*: I can't believe I'm finally posting this chapter

Silence reigned in the car. Five did nothing to discourage it, dimly aware of the unsubtle glances Allison keeps sending his way. He keeps his eyes fixed on the windshield, mind playing a loop of questions, each one burrowing deep into his conscience.

Should he have waited? Just sat back and waited for the Apocalypse to arrive and then intervened? Is it too late? How much has he changed, are his siblings even on the same course now?

He misses Delores and the clarity he found talking to her. Now it’s just him and he finds himself questioning every move he’s made. The eye is turning into a longshot. Hell, for all Five knows the person it will go to won’t even get it till April 1st, which would leave him in the same boat as if he’d _just waited_.

Allison pulls them into the alley parking of the Academy, Diego’s car pulling in behind them, and cuts the engine. She makes no move to leave the car, instead turning to fully face Five.

“Are you okay?” she asks, that same kind expression from the office shifting into place.

“Yes,” Five answers.

Something in his tone must not convince her and her face softens more. “There’s still time, Five. We can figure this out.”

“Of course,” he agrees and steps out of the car before his face can give away his disbelief.

“Five,” Allison calls, following him as if to continue.

Ahead of them Diego freezes before the stairs to the kitchen door. He raises his fist in warning, silently telling Five and Allison to stop moving.

Five goes into high alert, eyes sweeping over the alley for threats. It appears clear, so he assumes that whatever has drawn Diego up short is inside. Five meets Allison’s wary eyes and tilts his head towards the Academy. She starts to shake her head, but Five is already gone, slipping through space and popping out behind the bar in the lounge.

If there’s anyone still lurking in wait for their arrival, then they’ll be bracketed in by Allison and Diego from one side while Five comes from the other.

The air smells heavily of gunsmoke, clearly something went down while they were gone though there’s no sound of continued fire. A line of worry works itself through Five and he pushes it down as he slowly rises from his hiding spot.

Debris litters the lounge, wood and feathers cover every surface, a side table lies destroyed next to a pillar leading to the kitchen. Five follows the path of destruction, eyeing Reginald’s portrait that overlooks the room. Had he the time he may have smiled at the holes littering it.

He pauses at the top of the stairs and listens, waiting to hear Diego and Allison or the attackers. There’s the sound of a door being hit and swinging into a wall hard. Five blinks to the bottom of the stairs as Allison and Diego charge into the kitchen, knives and fists ready.

No one jumps out at them.

It appears that they’ve missed the main event, the kitchen an absolute mess. The pool table has been tossed across the room to rest next to the stairs where Five stands. There’s shell casings and pool balls scattered on the floor, splintered pool sticks next to them. The fridge is concaved from something hitting it.

There’s the rustle of fabric and a groan, as a giant lump on the floor shifts.

“Luther!” Allison cries, pushing past Diego and to their brother’s side.

“Allison?” Luther questions, looking up dazed.

Diego shifts, knives still held at the ready. “What happened here?”

Luther looks at him, blinking rapidly, and then looks at the kitchen around him. Awareness enters his eyes as he sees the destruction. “Shit,” he breathes, struggling to push himself up. Five’s eyes catch on his shoulder, watching as blood rushes from a bullet hole. Five stares at the deep red as it continues to spread on his jacket. “Klaus...Klaus was here.”

Diego perks up at the mention of their other brother, alert and scanning the room again even though it’s clearly empty. “What happened?” he demands again.

“Hazel and Cha-Cha, I don’t—Klaus was _here_ ,” Luther emphasizes again, trying to push through his confusion.

Five stands frozen, the words sinking in.

“They came _here_?” Allison asks in shock.

“Yeah, shot the place to hell. Klaus and I were together when they attacked.” Luther looks up at Allison, something heavy and haunted in his eyes, “I tried to keep him safe Allison. I tried to get him out—”

“I know Luther, I know you did your best,” Allison rushes to assure.

“Fat lot of good it did,” Diego growls. “Klaus is gone.”

Allison snaps to face him. “Diego,” she hisses fiercely. Luther drops his head staring at the floor guiltily.

Diego redirects, miraculously, eyes focusing on Five suddenly. “How did they even find us?”

It’s a good question. “I don’t know. Maybe management finally got their act together or Hazel and Cha-Cha did their own research.”

Luther pipes up, looking at Diego. “Don’t stab me, but I think Mom may have given them our location.”

Five blinks, trying to figure out where this is coming from.

Diego bares his teeth, looking one second from flying off the handle. “What the hell does that mean?”

Luther is steady as he speaks, voice level. “Mom was with dad the night he died and I think she may have actually killed him.”

Diego flinches back as though Luther had uppercut him, face going slack in shock. Allison’s eyes widen at the accusation. Five himself can only muster up confusion.

Luther’s quick to continue, obviously using their silence to get the words out before they can interrupt. “We found a video in the security room of it happening. But I don’t think she did it voluntarily.”

Five hadn’t been aware that they even had a security room, though now that he thinks about it, it seems like an obvious fact. Of course Reginald monitored the house.

“Luther,” Allison starts and then stops, brow furrowing.

“No, listen! You’ve seen how she’s been acting. Dad dies, Mom is acting weird, and these Commission guys just so happen to show up? All in the same week? I think they tampered with her.”

“And that’s how they found the Academy,” Allison finishes, her eyes dart to Five’s own. “Is that possible?”

"Technologically? Yes. But did they have Reginald killed? I don’t know,” Five finally says.

“What do we do then?” Allison asks.

“Nothing,” Diego pipes up. Allison and Luther look at him incredulously. “It’s not important right now. We need to find Klaus. Any idea where your psycho friends could’ve taken him?”

“Somewhere out of the way, where they won’t be interrupted or...or the motel they’re staying at, they’re usually shitty so I doubt they’d be disturbed while they work.”

“Work?” Luther says quietly.

Five runs his tongue along his lip. There’s really no easy way to tell them that Klaus is going (or already is) to be tortured (hopefully, at least he would be alive in that case). Five shoves down his own panic at the images that flash through his head, settling into a distant state. “Torture,” he says succinctly.

Allison’s hand rises to her mouth and Diego, he doesn’t rage, instead nodding his head and turning on his heels towards the door.

Five doesn’t bother running after him, opting to blink right into the alley, drawing Diego up short as he appears only a few feet from his brother. “Where are you going?!” Five demands.

Diego throws his arms out, movements sharp with anger. “I’m going to find our brother and then I’ll kill those two assclowns.” He continues on his way to his car, jerking the door open. Five can hear the kitchen door open and close again as who he assumes is Allison exits but he pays that little mind as he hurries after his brother.

Diego slides into the driver’s seat and Five quickly wedges himself between the door and the jamb. Diego’s face twists into a scowl that Five meets with his own. He has to stop the idiot from getting himself killed going after Hazel and Cha-Cha alone. “Diego! You can’t go after them, they’ll kill you. Listen—"

“No you listen!” Diego explodes, jabbing his finger towards Five. “You’re the reason they came here. They are after you and they took Klaus because of _you_!” Diego’s hand meets Five’s chest and shoves him back. Five can’t stop himself from being moved, too shocked by the venom in Diego’s voice. “I’m not going to abandon him, that’s more your style,” Diego growls, slamming the door shut.

Five stands frozen at the jab, the words too close to home.

_I never abandoned them_.

**But I did, just not on purpose.**

Allison moves past him to lean down next to the car’s open window. “Are you crazy? Those people just shot up the house and you’re going alone?!”

“Klaus needs me!” Diego yells.

“I know!” Allison shouts, quick to match Diego’s volume. “Just wait so we can figure out a plan!”

“I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for you and boy wonder! I’m going to find Klaus and get him away from the psychos.”

Allison opens her mouth to continue yelling only for Diego to hit the gas and peel out of the alley before she can utter a sound.

“Damnit, damnit! What a dick!” she curses, hand digging into her jacket pocket. “I’m going after him.”

“Did you not hear what I just told him?” Five questions, voice going high.

“I know,” Allison placates. “but if Diego is going to be stupid then he needs someone to watch his back.”

Five growls, hands scrubbing his face in frustration. Nothing is going as it should.

He’s…he’s fucked everything up and now Klaus is in the hands of the Commission. Something that never would’ve happened if Five had just stayed away and waited. To make matters worse his siblings are breaking formation to go toe to toe with some of the Commission’s best assassins.

“Fine, fine! Let’s go!” Five yells, throwing his hands up. At least if he’s there he can make sure they get out safely (he will not bury them a second time).

Allison whirls around from next to the car, keys white knuckled in her hand. “No! Five I need you to stay here!”

Five opens his mouth, ready to yell that she needs him to watch her back when Allison grabs his shoulders, bending to meet his eyes with a serious look. It pulls him up short. “Luther’s injured. I need you to stay with him and make sure he’s safe here while I’m gone. _Please_.”

Five remains silent, feeling torn every which way. If his siblings could just stay in _one_ _fucking_ _place_ …

Allison gives him a little shake, eyes fierce. “I’ve put all my trust in you, now you need to trust me.”

“I never agreed to that,” Five says absently. He…he does trust her (he doesn’t trust the universe to not kill her just to screw him over). He shakes his head. It’s not like he can be in multiple places at once and Luther needs attention. “Alright,” he agrees reluctantly.

Allison releases him relieved and Five reaches out quickly to snatch her wrist before she can leave. “I wasn’t bullshitting when I said Hazel and Cha-Cha have killed people more dangerous than any of you. They have hundreds of kills under their belt and they’ve been partners since they started, they know how to work together. If you see them do not engage with them.”

“I won’t,” she promises.

“ _Be careful_ ,” Five warns once more and lets go of her wrist.

***

Over the years since his death Ben has experienced a number of nerve-wracking situations with Klaus (usually because Klaus put himself in those situations with no regard to his life). Angry significant others coming home to find Klaus in bed with their partner, drug deals gone bad, wrong place wrong time situations, and the _numerous_ overdoses.

This is new for them though.

Kidnapped by time traveling assassins and tied to a chair.

Ben paces a tight circle around Klaus’s slumped form. He knows it won’t do anything (what had he expected to happen when he put himself between the assassin and Klaus, some spontaneous corporeality? No, he had to watch as his brother was knocked out and taken while his other brother lay shot on the floor. Death just isn’t fair.) but he can’t help himself. Klaus still hasn’t regained consciousness.

“The file never mentioned these kinds of complications. Did they not think superpowers were pertinent to mention?” the bear mask assassin complains. He had tossed the mask onto the bed once they were inside the motel room, revealing a beard and what Ben would consider a kind face. That is if the man hadn’t attacked his family.

He hasn’t stopped complaining.

The woman had yanked her mask off in anger. Now she is pulling off her layers to reveal a freshly bloody tank top beneath it all. “Who cares why management kept it out? They have their reasons, Hazel, you should keep that in mind before you go filing any complaints.”

“I care!” the man growls. “They’re going to deduct us again and blame everything on us when they could’ve prevented this by giving us actual intel instead of a love letter about the jobs Number Five did.”

Ben’s in the process of rolling his eyes when his brother’s name is dropped making him pause his pacing around Klaus.

The woman looks beyond annoyed at this point and thoroughly uninterested in continuing the topic. Ben would love if the complaints stopped but not if it stopped any information about his brother from being uttered. “Firstly, you were as excited as a kid in a toy store when you read those ‘love letters’. And second, it doesn’t matter! We know his history, that should’ve been enough warning for agents of our caliber.” She rolls her tank up and a long gash is presented, running from the bottom of her ribcage towards her spine. There’s fresh blood and Ben is guessing that’s where Klaus hit when he swung the pool stick at her.

“Clearly, we could’ve used the warning about the strong man and this yahoo,” Hazel comments with a wave at Klaus.

The woman huffs. “Just get me the damn curling iron so we can get this shit done.”

Ben looks away as the two assassins perform shoddy, motel first aid on each other.

There’s a bruise in the center of Klaus’s forehead from where he’d hit the concrete of the kitchen floor. Ben wishes he could hold an ice pack to it, there’s a lump starting to form and give Klaus a misshapen forehead.

“Klaus,” Ben tries. “Please wake up.”

His brother remains still, not even a twitch.

Ben sucks in a breath.

“Klaus. _Klaus_. Klaus, wake up. Get up you dick. Wake up! **KLAUS!** ”

An eyebrow twitches.

“Klaus Hargreeves is a dumpster baby that hates musical theatre!” Ben shouts.

Nothing. Not a peep from his brother’s duck taped mouth.

Ben leans close to Klaus’s face, voice low. “Klaus Hargreeves uses drugs to escape his problems and distance himself from people who care about him.”

Eyes remain stubbornly closed.

Not that Ben’s attempts matter in the end.

A stream of water is thrown through Ben and right into Klaus’s face.

Klaus shrieks, it’s loud even through the tape. Hazel, masked once more and the one who’d thrown the water, steps forward and smacks Klaus upside the head.

“Are you okay?” Ben asks reflexively, moving closer and holding his arms over Klaus’s head even though he knows it won’t stop anymore blows.

Klaus meets his eyes, confusion clear in them.

“You’ve been kidnapped by those guys who were after Five. They have you tied up in their motel room,” Ben summarizes.

“Now that you’re awake we can get down to business,” the woman declares, her own mask back in place. She rips the tape off unceremoniously.

“Ah! My lips!” Klaus hisses.

“We’ve got questions and you’re going to answer them or this whole affair will get unpleasant for you.”

Klaus rolls his head, eyes travelling across the room. His eyes do a circuit, eventually landing back on the two cartoon masks. Ben does not like the way his mouth twitches and his eyes light up. “I’ve always wondered what a night with furries would be like. All that animal magnetism contained inside suffocating costumes.”

“Klaus please—” Ben sighs and then flinches as the woman backhands Klaus.

Klaus straightens and laughs, sending Ben a wink.

This is going to be a shitty night. Ben just hopes that Klaus will survive it.

***

Patch stumbles down her stairs, bleary eyed and pissed off at the persistent knocking on her front door. She pulled a long shift at the station, searching for any clues to help her track down the assassins after Diego’s brother and her brain felt like stew. She vows to chew out whoever decided to wake her up before the crack of dawn.

Gun tucked safely behind her back, she swings the front door open, catching Diego by surprise as his hand misses the door and hangs limply between them.

“This had damn well better be good, Diego,” she hisses, relieved to see it’s him and not some stranger. Then she registers how tight his face is. Something’s wrong, she knows it.

“They took Klaus,” he growls, voice barely restrained.

Patch’s brain blanks on who _they_ are before it clicks in her head. “The assassins?!”

Diego nods, eyes burning bright. “I said you’d be the first to know when they turned up again. Now I need you to help me track them down.”

Patch sighs, tucking her gun into the pocket of her robe and pulling Diego into the house. He’s stiff and difficult to move but Patch is stubborn. “I don’t suppose you’ve reported what happened?”

Diego barks a harsh laugh, like the notion of telling the police is absurd to him. “I don’t have time to wait around, Eudora. They have my _brother._ They could be doing anything to him right now.”

“Right, I guess I should be grateful you came to me at least,” Patch groans. “Let me get dressed, I’ll call it in from the car.”

Five minutes later and they’re climbing into his car.

“Where do we go?” she asks, double checking her service weapon and badge.

Diego doesn’t answer.

“You don’t know.”

“No, I don’t,” he says, jaw clenched. “I was too busy spying on Meritech. Completely missed all the action.”

She does her best not to let her disappointment shine through (ignoring the snippet about Meritech). If Diego wasn’t there then the odds of him having any good descriptions of the assassins who attacked or their vehicle are low, and given that he’s not offering up any of that information she assumes he doesn’t know.

The odds are not in their favor.

And Diego must know that too.

“What do we know?” Patch asks.

Diego’s hands flex around the wheel. “They have Klaus and they’re going to be holed up in a motel or warehouse or somewhere torturing him.”

Diego’s voice is somewhere between calm, enraged and helpless.

Patch pulls out her radio, “I guess that’s where we’ll check. I’m going to call in a description of your brother, get some more eyes on the streets.”

She raises the radio to her mouth and Diego clears his throat stopping her. “Thanks,” he says gruffly.

“This is my job, Diego,” she answers. “Now let’s get your brother home safe.”

***

“Stop squirming I haven’t even touched you yet,” Five orders from his spot at the cabinets.

“You’re not even looking,” Luther grumbles.

Five stretches across the top of the wood, clenching his teeth as he has to stand on the tips of his toes to even grasp the bandages that are tucked away there. “I could sense the displacement of air from your movements.” Behind him Luther goes quiet and still, as though he’s trying to figure out if Five is telling the truth…which he isn’t. He simply caught Luther’s reflection in the metal rim of the cotton swab container. Not that he’ll tell Luther, more fun to have him believe Five is like a motion detector.

Allison has rubbed off on him, he admits begrudgingly.

The silence drags on and Luther shifts again. Five pulls a drawer out loudly, startling him. Five grabs the forceps inside and slams the drawer shut again, whirling around to face Luther with his supplies. Based on the overall jumpiness and continued movement, Five is left with the conclusion that Luther is uncomfortable.

Talking usually eases that, right? That’s what Allison does, talks about a different subject. It’s been so long since Five has left that he’s not sure what topic to pull out of the hat. What a rarity, to be at such a loss.

Five dumps his haul onto the tray next to the exam table, chewing the inside of his cheek in thought. Still he draws a blank, feeling frustrated that he can’t just spit something out.

“Take your coat off,” Five orders in lieu of an alternative. He forgot scissors.

Five doesn’t spare Luther more than a glance to make sure he’s doing as told before he goes back to the cabinet to search the drawers again.

“What happened with the eye lead?” Luther asks, providing a conversation starter on his own. Five would be happy to go with the distracting subject if it weren’t about one of the things that he would rather not linger on.

“Nothing. It hasn’t been bought yet.” Five shoves the bottom drawer closed and stands. Of all the equipment to be missing in the infirmary it had to be as simple as scissors?

“Where does that leave us then?” Luther questions. Five turns to face him once more. The man has dropped some of his unease, mind on a new problem. “How do we stop the apocalypse if we don’t know who causes it?”

“Look, don’t worry about it.” Five licks his lips knowing that it must be strange to hear him say that. “I’ll figure it out.”

“But—”

“—take your shirt off, I can’t find scissors to cut it.”

This shuts Luther up. “Do you think that’s necessary?”

Five rolls his eyes. “Unless you want me to sew your shirt to the wound then yes, it is necessary.”

Luther does not immediately start getting rid of his shirt, instead he plays with the hem. Five raises an eyebrow impatiently as he watches his brother. “Something wrong?”

“Not necessarily…” Luther says voice strained. “I haven’t…shown anyone—”

Five tilts his head, gears turning in his head. “You feel self-conscious.” It doesn’t really make sense. Luther has always had confidence and it’s not like he’s hideous—

Oh.

Five scowls. “You’re not fooling anyone with the coat.”

Luther stops fidgeting to send Five a glare. “Hey—”

“—No. Shut up,” Five commands, holding up a hand. His brother is so stupid sometimes. “I know already and even if I didn’t it would not matter. You’re my brother and I’m more concerned about the bullet lodged in your shoulder than what exactly that shoulder looks like.”

Luther stares at him dumbstruck and then his brow furrows. “How do you know?” he asks.

Five looks away to grab the forceps on the tray next to him, unable to meet Luther’s eyes as he admits, “I found you, in the apocalypse.” Luther is quiet and Five knows that he’s processing this new information, reaching a conclusion. Five told them all life was wiped out by the apocalypse, he’s sure his brother knows exactly what Five means by saying he found him.

Five casts a glance over his shoulder and finds Luther staring at him. His eyebrow twitches at the sad look on his brother’s face. “Did your brain stop working? Take your shirt off!”

Luther blinks, shaken from his trance thankfully and reaches for the hem of his shirt again. “Right.”

Five drags a step stool closer to the table, cursing his short stature. Even with the stool he’s far too low for what he needs to do.

Luther sets aside his shirt, revealing his transformed physique. Five keeps his face fixed in a bland, neutral expression as he takes in the tufts of fur coming out of Luther’s leathery skin. It does bother him, not Luther’s appearance (there’re scars running all along his body that make Five’s stomach twist in sympathy), but he never found out why Luther changed so drastically. It had been a surprise to see what was beneath his clothes when Luther’s shirt ripped while Five tried to drag him out from under the rubble. Based on how uncomfortable Luther is though, Five can guess it was nothing good, something that Luther appears to not have wanted.

“Scoot over,” Five says, clambering up onto the table. Luther shifts, clearing space for Five with a bewildered look.

Five stands up and smiles, but quickly wipes the expression from his face. He’s taller than Luther, granted his brother is sitting and Five is standing on a table, but it still feels good to feel tall (to feel just a little older than his brother), even if he’s only a few inches above Luther now.

Those ridiculous thoughts are shoved away as Five leans closer to the bullet wound in Luther’s shoulder. There’s very little blood flow at this point and there is no exit wound so the bullet is, of course, still trapped in there, hopefully not shattered by Luther’s durability.

Warmth envelopes Five’s hand, sending tingles along the skin. It draws him back from his inspection to see his brother’s hand covering his own. Luther’s face is soft, similar to some of the looks Allison has given Five in the past few days, totally sincere and a touch awkward where Allison wasn’t. Luther clears his throat, “Thanks.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Five says, tugging at his hand lightly. “I haven’t even gotten the bullet out.”

“I don’t mean the first aid,” Luther corrects seriously and then quickly scrambles over his words, “I mean—thanks for that too, obviously, but that’s not the main thing—”

“—Okay!” Five interrupts and then coughs, patting the back of Luther’s hand. “I acknowledge your unnecessary gratitude, now let me dig into your shoulder.”

“Yeah, so long as that is clear,” Luther murmurs, tightening his grip briefly before finally allowing Five his hand back.

***

After all Allison’s reassurance to Five that she’ll provide Diego with back-up, she can’t find him.

Diego’s car was long gone when Allison pulled out of the alley. She couldn’t tell what direction he went in, picking one at random and hoping for the best. At one point she tries her best to put herself in his shoes, hoping that she’ll get a brain blast and figure out what route an angry, scared Diego would take. In the end she finds herself boiling in anger at him.

It’s not like she doesn’t understand his need to run off looking for Klaus. She’s scared that this may be the night they lose another brother too, and Diego has no right to act like she isn’t. But she’s also worried about Luther and after what’s happened they shouldn’t go splitting up like they’re in Scooby-Doo. Yet that’s exactly what Diego does, charging forward without them or a plan beyond attack and forcing Allison to follow.

Only Allison can’t even do that because she has no idea which direction Diego went in.

The streets are empty for the most part, a light drizzle sprinkling the windshield.

Allison grits her teeth. She should be looking for Klaus, not Diego. They all should be together looking for him. The problem is though, they don’t even know what to look for. Klaus is most likely indoors and Allison has no idea what kind of vehicle the assassins would be driving. There’s not much hope.

 _Unless he escapes_ , she reminds herself and ignores the scoff in her throat. Klaus is more slippery and resourceful than they give him credit for. The question is whether he’ll be in the right mind to use that to his advantage.

The light in front of her turns red and Allison stops the car.

Luther needs her. Diego needs her. Klaus needs her. Five needs her.

Allison drops her forehead onto the steering wheel, clenching it tight between her hands.

Her family needs her and she needs to get her shit together and keep them safe (None of them are safe. _Klaus isn’t safe_.) ( **I’ll get him back.)** (Will you?).

She sighs, lifting her head and running her hands down her face. She’s trying to convince herself that they’ll get him back, but she doubts the universe will be so kind.

The light remains red. She looks away, scanning the sidewalks. It’s gotten late enough that most people are inside their homes now. Stores are closed for the night, each of them apologizing for it. Her eyes land on a bookstore.

It’s silly really, but every time Allison sees a bookstore she thinks of Vanya and her book. A strange mix of feelings always resurface, ones that Allison wishes she could bury.

Tonight, a different feeling surfaces as an unsettling thought nestles its way into her brain as she stares at that bookstore. What if Klaus isn’t the only family member the assassins got to?

Is she crazy to even wonder that?

The light turns green and Allison hits the gas.

_Vanya’s a public figure whose address would be just as easy to find as the Academy’s. In fact, she tied herself to the Academy by writing that book._

Allison hits the next intersection and pulls a U-turn, uncaring about whether it was legal or not.

She’ll just pop in and make sure that Vanya is okay (she will be, she had better be) and then she’ll find her brothers.

***

Luther hasn’t felt comfortable in the infirmary for a long time.

When he was young visits there always meant failure somehow. An injured sibling he should’ve cared for better (sometimes an injury he caused with carelessness) or his own weaknesses rearing their heads and forcing him to the room with shame.

The Accident.

Needless to say Luther doesn’t like the room. It’s too haunted by past memories he prefers to avoid. The bright overhead lights and the exam table in its center act as the focal point of the whole room. All of it makes him uneasy and being put right back into the same area as where he was first deformed is bringing out his weaknesses. He wishes he could hide away in his room and just let the wound heal on its own, as impractical as that would be.

“Loosen up would you,” Five snaps.

“Sorry,” Luther says quickly, relaxing as best he can.

Five goes back to his work, carefully digging into Luther’s shoulder in search of a bullet. It doesn’t really hurt, Luther has pretty good pain tolerance and Five had used some of the local anesthetic he found. He just finds that he needs distraction or else his mind wanders to darker places.

Five is a pretty good distraction, even when he’s not speaking. Luther gets caught up in staring at him, eyes stuck on the baby fat and the, frankly, fluffy looking hair that keeps slipping from its styling. It’s weird to see all his brother’s familiar features just…even younger than last time.

“How’s your head? And your arm?” Luther asks. The white bandage on Five’s forehead is a reminder that he’d had his own scrape with Hazel and Cha-Cha just the night before. Luther had been worried about him the day before, in an almost detached way, unable to fully understand the threat but knowing that there was one. But having come into contact with the two assassins (and failing to protect Klaus from them) has given him a face to who is hunting his brother, making them more real.

Five’s shoulders rise minutely to shrug, his focus on the task at hand. “Sore.” He grunts then, placing a small hand on Luther’s shoulder as he shifts into a better position. “I’ve got it.”

Luther holds perfectly still as Five slowly pulls the lump of metal out. It’s an uncomfortable slide that he can just feel through the numbing agent.

And then Five holds the forceps up to the light, a small mass of metal gripped between the tongs. “Looks pretty intact. I’m honestly surprised it didn’t shatter going in.”

“I’ve got thick skin not skin of steel,” Luther jokes.

Five lowers the bullet, eyebrows jumping up judgingly.

“What?” Luther asks defensively.

His brother lets the bullet drop onto the tray with a small _clang_ , tilting his head with a blank expression.

Behind him the infirmary door opens slowly.

Luther’s on his feet without a thought, grabbing Five around the waist and twisting them so he’s shielding his brother. Five for his part squawks in surprise at suddenly being held in Luther’s arms, squirming to get loose. Luther pays his escape attempts no mind, heart pounding and ready to flip the exam table for cover.

“What are you doing?” an old voice asks.

Luther blinks, looking over his shoulder to find Pogo hovering hesitantly in the doorway and not an assassin. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Indeed,” Pogo confirms shifting further into the room. “I’ve been searching the house for you. I…I took cover after hearing the gunfire, and after things had cooled down I feared the worst.”

Luther swallows, “I’m fine, but they took Klaus.”

Pogo’s face falls, a somber look in place. “I see. I should assume that you’re not as fine as you say if you’re in this room.”

“It was nothing serious.”

“Just a bullet in his shoulder,” Five growls drawing Luther’s attention back to him. “Put me down you imbecile,” he demands, slapping at Luther’s forearms crossed over his midsection like a restraining bar on a roller coaster. His feet dangle in the air.

Luther drops him like a hot potato, embarrassed at his overreaction. Five lands with a stumble, standing straight and dusting his uniform off for non-existent wrinkles.

Five shuffles around Luther, grabbing bandages off the tray and pointing down in a silent command for Luther to get low enough for him to wrap his shoulder. Luther does so, explaining to Pogo that Diego and Allison had gone in search of Klaus. “Hopefully, they’ll be successful.”

The old chimp nods at Luther in acknowledgement. “Yes, hopefully.”

“It’s actually a good thing you showed up,” Luther adds. “I needed to talk to you, but—well we were interrupted.” He takes a deep breath, “It’s about Grace. She’s been malfunctioning for days now and I found a tape of her with dad the night he died. Now these assassins show up right after he dies, and I think you can understand what kind of picture is being painted.”

“I’m not sure I follow, Master Luther,” Pogo says slowly.

“They must’ve tampered with her,” Luther explains, gaining speed and confidence as Pogo and Five, who stops wrapping, focus on him fully. “These guys want the apocalypse to happen, they must have seen Dad as a threat and used Grace to help assassinate him. They could do that, right?”

He looks to Five for assurance. His brother looks thoughtful, though still unconvinced. “They could, theoretically.”

“See?!” And then another thought hits him. “Dad must’ve known. He told me not to trust anyone.”

“Didn’t he always say that?” Five mutters.

Luther ignores him because the last four years are suddenly coming into clarity. Luther had spent so much time taking samples on the moon and watching and making notes of every little thing. There had been days where he’d started to doubt but…

Luther stares at the two of them. “My last package of moon data arrived at the beginning of the month. There must have been something in there—something related to the apocalypse that dad saw and they killed him because of it.”

Five’s face scrunches. “The moon?” Shit, did no one mention Luther’s mission to him? That could be vital information.

Pogo looks…he looks like someone killed the family dog in front of him (not that they ever had a dog). “I—I’m afraid there’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

The whole room seems to still at those words.

“I think you should come with me,” Pogo says, an air of resignation settling over him. “Please,” he adds when neither of the siblings move.

Five moves first, finishing wrapping Luther’s shoulder and tying the bandage off. He doesn’t start walking though, waiting for Luther to get up and follow Pogo.

Unease dulls Luther’s previous energy, nonetheless he shrugs his shirt back on and follows Pogo. They walk slowly and quietly to Reginald’s office.

It’s weird to be inside the room without a summons from the late man.

Pogo raises his cane to gesture at the corner of the room. “Over there.”

Luther follows his direction, moving to the corner to stand in confusion until the floorboards creak beneath him. “Clever old man,” he breaths, sweeping aside the rug to reveal a trap door. He senses Five moving to stand next to him curiously.

Beneath the floor of his father’s office lay four years’ worth of samples and reports from Luther.

None of them are opened.

“He never opened them,” Luther whispers, stunned. He looks to Pogo for explanation and finds the lines of his face creased with guilt. “Why not? Why not?!”

“After your accident, your father wanted to give you purpose. An important mission to the moon seemed fitting after your obsession with space as a child,” Pogo answers softly. He pauses and seems to brace himself, eyes closing. “Just as he sought to give the Umbrella Academy a purpose to come together for.”

Luther stares at Pogo uncomprehendingly, feeling as though he’s been dropped in arctic waters without warning. His mission…four years of his life was a manufactured lie. “What do you mean?”

“You are correct, Grace is malfunctioning, but I would say that she is operating exactly as Sir Reginald intended. Unable to provide first aid in the event of _complications_.” Luther stands, unable to remain crouched over the result of four years wasted any longer. Pogo steps closer, like he wants to comfort Luther as he did when they were children. “Please understand, Master Luther, your Father was trying to bring the Umbrella Academy back together. He felt that drastic action was needed in order to achieve that goal and that suspicious circumstances were needed to ensure that you remained together.”

“That manipulative bastard,” Five mutters. He sounds disgusted and awed all at once.

Luther doesn’t even realize he’s moved, towering over Pogo’s hunched form, until there’s a flash and Five is there standing between them with careful eyes. “Luther…” he hisses quietly.

Luther ignores him, letting Pogo see all the anger and confusion plainly on his face. “You just stood by and let this happen. _I trusted you_.”

“I am sorry. It was his dying wish, I had no choice,” Pogo answers remorsefully. Not that it matters how bad the chimp feels now that he’s been caught.

“There’s always a choice,” Luther spits and feels no satisfaction as Pogo shrinks further in on himself. He looks away, sinking into the couch against the wall and staring at his hands. Gnarled and leathery skin looks back. His throat tightens. Everything comes back to _that day_. “Was I not good enough? Is that why he sent me away?” The last word rides out as a sob and Luther cringes, ducking his head further.

“No, no that’s—”

“—Pogo I think it’s time you left,” Five says, cutting him off. His voice is hard edged but light. “Perhaps you should go look at Grace.”

There’s a silent stand off that Luther can’t bring himself to look up at. Then a quiet sigh and creaking floorboards.

Five remains quiet even after Pogo’s departure which unfortunately means that Luther’s hiccupping sobs are the only sound.

“You must be satisfied,” Luther chokes out.

“Why would I be?”

“You always thought he was a bastard. Now you’ve got confirmation.” Luther forces his head up, eyes dripping hot tears shamefully down his cheeks. “He killed himself and made it look like a murder at Grace’s expense. He shanghaied me on the moon on a pointless mission for four years. Diego’s gonna get a kick out of this. All of you knew what he was like and I just kept following him like a blind soldier.” He swipes a hand across his face. “God…I’m so stupid.”

“Shut up,” Five snaps. Luther jerks back in surprise and Five steps forward until he’s brushing against Luther’s knees. “You’re not stupid for wanting him to look at you like you meant something to him, Luther.”

“Oh I meant something,” Luther laughs wetly, “I was his Number One, the dumb little boy who fell in line no matter what.”

“And I was dumb little Number Five, who time travelled because he thought it would prove that he was worth love and respect,” Five throws his arms out. “I lost forty-five years because I tried to earn what didn’t exist.”

“That’s horrible,” Luther admits.

Five scowls because apparently that’s the wrong thing to say. “Don’t. I’m trying to say that you’re not alone. I’m not implying that what he did to you wasn’t that bad.”

“Thanks,” Luther says, though it comes out miserable. “I think I just want to be alone now.”

Five looks skeptical.

“I do. I need to process… _everything_.” And maybe process it at the bar.

Five’s face softens into a frown. “Okay,” he says slowly. “While you go brood over how big of an asshole Dad actually was, keep in mind that your family needs you.”

_Do they? He couldn’t protect Klaus. Now it turns out he’s willfully lived a lie._

“If you hold onto that thought you’ll get through anything,” Five says with conviction, enough that Luther wants to believe him. But wanting to believe and actually believing are two different things.

Luther nods along anyway because that will get Five to leave. He really does want to be alone now.

Five though, he hesitates, lip slipping between his teeth in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I’m going to try and narrow down where Hazel and Cha-Cha may have taken Klaus.” He doesn’t move to leave.

Luther’s about ready to snap at him to go when Five reaches out and squeezes two of his fingers, hand too small to grasp much more surface area. It’s sudden and fleeting, Five twitches his hand away after a few heartbeats and abruptly marches out the door way.

Luther is left staring at where he was, the phantom warmth from Five’s hand lingering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all, I'm sorry for such a large gap between chapters. I had writer's block, then I was distracted by school, then I sat down to figure out where I was going the week before finals feeling bright eyed and optimistic, then the day after finals my hard drive killed itself and all my writing. So I restarted from scratch and it actually helped and I changed this quite a few times.
> 
> Klaus/Ben, Allison, and Diego do not have a ton going on in this chap (Vanya will show up again and she was supposed to this chapter but, uh, yeah things changed). Five and Luther get some time together which is nice and the whole Grace thing is solved and Luther also finds out about his mission early (Luther was over here connecting all the wrong dots, but like believably, at least I hope that whole story he crafted was not too out there as far as believability). Some things are happening in a different order or not at all and it's pretty fun to play with.
> 
> As always I hope this chapter and the characters are coherent and make sense, it was hard to remember everything after taking so long to finish this so I may re-read and fix details if I find a mistake.  
> I am posting this so late at night that I hope I'm not like, making a horrible mistake because I'm tired. But I really, REALLY want to get rid of this chapter.


End file.
